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Paris  :  Past  and  Present 


pur  /o  3  >//  ^l  I 
1**1  £>1H  3HT  ifO 


PA  Li  ACE   OF  THE  LOUVRE:  MINISTRY  OF 
FINANCE  ON  THE  LEFT  ;  ART  GALLERIES 
0\  THE  RIGHT  AXD  IN  THE  CENTRE 


PARIS 

PAST  &  PRESENT 


By    HENRY  HAYNIE 

Chevalier  in  the  French  Legion  of  Honour 


WITH    32    ENGRAVINGS    IN  HALF-TONE 


TWO     VOLUMES     IN  ONE 


NEW  YORK  -  FREDERICK  A. 
STOKES  COMPANY  -  PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1902, 
By  Frederick  A,  Stokes  Company, 
Published  in  November,  1902. 

All  Bights  Beserved. 


TESTIMONY  OF    MY    PROFOUND  AFFECTION, 
DEDICATE  THIS  WORK  TO  ALL  MY  FRIENDS 
AND     CONFRERES    IN    FRANCE,  IN 
ENGLAND,  AND  IN  AMERICA. 

H.  H. 


CONTENTS  OF  VOLUME  I. 

PAGE 

Preface  1 


CHAPTER  I. 

Primitive  days  of  the  Parises — The  Roman  occupation  of 
five  hundred  years — Palace  of  the  Thermes  and  its 
present  ruins — The  treacherous  crime  of  an  early 
sovereign — An  ancient  amphitheatre  near  the  mod- 
ern Sorbonne  13 


CHAPTER  II. 

The  first  walls  of  Paris — Appearance  of  a  valiant  shep- 
herdess— Under  the  reigns  of  Merovingians,  Pepins, 
and  Capetians — Xorman  invasions  and  numerous 
sackings — Building  of  churches  and  monasteries — 
Birth  of  the  famous  Latin  Quarter — Certain  periods 
ot  the  Middle  Ages. — Stout  walls  built  and  streets 
paved — An  immense  donjon  keep — The  arms  of  Paris  29 


CHAPTER  III. 

Cruelty  of  Merovingian  monarchs — A  palace  rich  in  great 
souvenirs— It  is  now  the  principal  court  house — A 
famous  Marble  Table— Hall  of  pride  and  luxury- 
Hawthorn  planting  in  the  month  of  May— The  rough 
and  unpolished  Conciergerie— Those  imprisoned  in 
it  in  olden  and  modern  times — A  long  trail  of  blood 
and  misery— The  cell  of  Marie  Antoinette  and  others  46 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Autocracy  and  Democracy  early  disputing  the  right  of 
power — Relations  between  the  Romans  and  the  citi- 
iii 


iv 


CONTENTS. 


zens  of  Lutetia — The  Parlouer  aux  Bourgeois  and 
the  Maison  aux  Piliers  used  by  the  municipality — 
The  first  Hotel  de  Ville — Its  destruction  by  the  Com- 
mune in  1871 — The  new  City  Hall — Official  residence 
of  the  Prefet  de  la  Seine — Often  the  scene  of  magnifi- 
cent balls  in  mid-winter — The  rights  of  kings  and 
citizens  early  defined — Beginning  of  municipal  au- 
thority 61 

CHAPTER  Y. 

The  order  of  the  Templars — They  build  a  grand  fortress 
in  Paris — Accused  of  secret  rites  and  impious  sacri- 
fices— Jacques  de  Molay  burned  alive — The  Temple 
given  over  to  the  Hospitaliers — Its  population  of  four 
thousand  souls — Its  final  destruction  in  1811 — The 
first  Marche  du  Temple — A  remarkable  old  clothes 
depot— How  it  was  made  to  pay  by  the  city — The 
Abbey  and  Church  of  Saint  Germain  des  Pres — Duel- 
ling and  brawling  grounds  of  the  students — The  scene 
of  horrible  massacres  78 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Looking  backwards  at  the  Paris  of  long  ago — Palace  of 
the  Bishops  and  its  donjon — The  Church  of  the  Inno- 
cents— England's  march  on  the  Capital — The  Maid  of 
Orleans  wounded  in  battle — Treason  inside  the  city 
walls — The  horrors  of  famine — Church  and  Tower  of 
Saint  Jacques — A  fine  example  of  Gothic  architec- 
ture— New  headquarters  of  a  scientific  society — Lib- 
erality of  a  rich  scrivener— Once  a  bad,  but  now  a 
beautiful  neighbourhood— A  bronze  column  in  Napo- 
leon's honour—The  theatre  of  Sarah  Bernhardt     .  92 

CHAPTER  VII. 

The  Capital  and  le  roi  gallant — Numerous  changes  in  the 
faubourgs — Construction  of  the  boulevard  and  of  the 
bridge  called  Pont  Neuf — Curious  history  of  the 


CONTENTS. 


v 


Palais  Koyal — A  palace  long  since  abandoned  by- 
princes — Meeting  place  of  dissolute  men  and  women 
— Once  the  fashionable  centre  of  Paris,  now  a  rather 
gloomy  spot — The  Hotel  de  Cluny — A  magnificent 
museum  of  archaeological  relics — Some  precious 
crowns  of  the  Merovingian  Kings — The  exquisite 
architecture  of  an  old  mansion — A  queen's  vengeance 
— Quaint  and  historical  houses — The  long-time  home 
of  witty  Mme.  de  Sevigne,  now  known  as  the  Carna- 
valet  museum  106 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

An  immense  and  sumptuous  edifice  called  the  Louvre — 
A  perfect  specimen  of  mixed  architecture — Its  three 
distinct  periods — The  scene  of  many  deplorable 
incidents — How  it  became  a  great  museum — A  mas- 
terpiece of  ancient  statuary — Its  preservation  during 
the  Commune — The  Tuileries  and  its  Occupants — 
Anecdotes  and  incidents — Its  orgies,  its  horrors,  and 
its  final  destruction  .      •  132 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  Hotel  des  Tournelles — Mansion  wherein  Louis  XII 
died — Once  it  was  both  citadel  and  royal  residence — 
A  fatal  tilting  tournament — The  chateau  pulled'down 
by  a  queen's  command — Origin  of  the  Place  Roy  ale 
— Duelling  during  the  time  of  Cardinal  Richelieu — 
A  famous  neighbourhood — An  expensive  beauty  and 
a  poor  poet's  wife — The  rendezvous  of  gaiety  and 
diplomacy — Anecdote  of  a  love  letter— The  best 
French  ever  spoken— An  exquisite  Marchioness — The 
old  mansion  of  de  Lamoignon  147 

CHAPTER  X. 

A  world  by  itself  in  Paris— The  Cite,  the  Universite  and 
the  Ville — Each  a  separate  town  or  division — The 
days  of  Pierre  Abailard— Upholding  the  philosophy 


vi 


CONTENTS. 


of  Aristotle — Letters,  art,  and  theology — The  work 
consecrated  by  Pope  Urbain — Fighting  students  and 
peaceful  citizens — Seeking  knowledge  while  living  in 
the  open  streets — One  hundred  thousand  pupils — 
The  faculty  and  its  rules — Anecdote  of  Peter  the 
Great — Power  of  the  Sorbonne — Its  theology  and  its 
crimes — The  new  University — Official  ceremony  of 
1885 — The  College  of  France — A  grand  Institution  of 
human  knowledge — Free  System  of  Education  and 
open  to  everybody  161 


CHAPTEK  XL 

Le  Grand  Siecle — Why  Louis  XIY  created  Versailles-— 
Its  immense  chateau  and  magnificent  gardens — The 
large  courtyard  and  its  monuments — An  astonishing 
edifice  which  housed  five  thousand  persons — The 
park,  terrace,  and  fountains — Millions  of  money 
expended  and  thousands  of  lives  sacrificed — His  Ma- 
jesty's vegetable  grounds  and  orangery— Incidents 
of  historical  interest— The  Chateau  of  Vincennes — 
Its  notorious  donjon — Magnificent  panorama  of  town 
and  country   .  193 


CHAPTER  XII. 

The  Colonnade  of  the  Louvre— The  Hotel  des  Invalides, 
or  Home  for  old  Soldiers— Many  strange  scenes  wit- 
nessed—Seeking for  guns  with  which  to  take  the 
Bastile— Breaking  of  Frederick  the  Great's  sword- 
Mysterious  vaults  as  burial  places— The  story  of  Mon- 
sieur de  Sombreuil— Victims  of  the  Reign  of  Terror 
—Their  last  repose  in  the  Rue  Picpus— Funeral  ser- 
vice of  Marshal  MacMahon— A  splendid  military 
ceremony — Captured  flags  and  standards — The  artil- 
lery museum — Tomb  of  Xapoleon — Anecdote  of 
Queen  Victoria— The  Chapelle  Expiatoire— Royal 
remains  at  Saint  Denis  227 


CONTENTS. 


vii 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Back  again  to  the  great  century — Senseless  adoration  of 
Louis  XIY— The  Porte  Saint  Martin  and  Porte  Saint 
Denis— Creation  of  the  Place  des  Conquetes— Eques- 
trian Statue  of  the  "  Sun  King"— The  Vendome  Col- 
umn— Its  many  incidents  and  happenings— Over- 
thrown by  the  Communists — Anecdote  of  General 
Bonaparte — Effigy  of  the  famous  Captain  at  its  top — 
Institut  de  France — Its  five  great  academies — Their 
annual  convention — The  Forty  Immortals  .      •       .  249 

CHAPTER  XIY. 
Upon  the  hill  of  Sainte  Genevieve — A  land  of  church  and 
university — The  shepherd  girl  of  Xanterre — A  patri- 
otic and  heroic  saint — Yow  of  King  Louis  XY — An 
edifice  topped  with  cross  and  dome  called  the  Pan- 
theon— Interments  in  its  gloomy  vaults — Burial-place 
of  Yictor  Hugo — The  Church  of  the  Madeleine — Why 
Xapoleon  started  its  construction — Its  destination 
changed — Death  of  the  first  architect— Like  unto  a 
Greek  Temple,  but  really  a  House  of  God  .      •      •  265 

CHAPTER  XY. 

Good  works  by  the  First  Republic — Establishment  of 
different  Institutions — Public  education  greatly 
improved — The  Conservatoire  des  Arts  et  Metiers — 
Its  location  in  an  ancient  Abbey — Church  of  Saint 
Martin  without  the  walls — Building  of  a  Monastery 
by  Henri  I — Its  change  to  a  Priory  and  its  present 
condition — Free  instruction  to  all  workmen — Eleven 
Chairs  established — Yaluable  collections  at  this  Con- 
servatory— Everything  excellently  arranged— The 
Paris  Xautes  of  antiquity— Beginnings  of  the  Muni- 
cipality— Eighty  members  of  the  Common  Council 
— The  President  and  Syndic  of  the  Board — Public 
and  private  sessions — Annual  expenses  of  the  Capital 
— State  Control  over  appropriations — Police  force  and 
how  governed   297 


viii 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

The  Capital  dotted  with  military  barracks — An  Empire 
represented  by  four  monuments — The  Place  du  Car- 
rousel— A  courtyard  filled  with  ghastly  souvenirs — 
Its  paving  stones  stained  with  human  blood — Scene 
of  ancient  tournaments — The  grand  fete  given  by 
Louis  XI Y  its  only  carousal — Legend  of  the  "  Little 
Man  in  Red  "—The  many  troubles  which  followed 
his  appearance— Santerre  and  his  rough  rabble- 
Massacre  of  the  Swiss  Guard — Josephine  as  an  hostess 
— A  famous  dance  hall — White  flag  of  the  Bourbons 
— The  Grand  Arc  de  Triomphe — An  imposing  colossal 
edifice — Anecdote  of  a  Prussian  colonel  and  the  chil- 
dren of  Paris — The  funeral  obsequies  of  Victor  Hugo 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Louis  XVIII  and  his  foreign  friends — How  they  imposed 
on  the  nation — Another  revolution — The  crown  on 
the  head  of  Louis  Philippe — Transformation  of  the 
capital — Egyptian  obelisk  and  its  history — The  Col- 
onne  de  Juillet — Increasing  population  of  Paris — 
New  streets  and  quarters — Sewers  and  fountains  con- 
structed— Gas  introduced— A  brilliantly  illuminated 
city  

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

The  so-called  walls  of  Paris — Their  use  and  their  useless- 
ness — The  era  of  Baron  Haussmann — Birth  and 
growth  of  the"Ville  Luniiere" — Beautiful  public 
gardens  and  broad  thoroughfares — The  Buttes  Chau- 
mont — Description  of  a  Paradise  for  the  poorer 
classes — The  Pare  Monceau — Once  known  as  "  Phil- 
ippe's Folly,"  now  the  sweetest  playfield  in  existence 
— The  trees  of  the  Capital  and  their  cultivation — 
Millions  of  flower  plants  set  out  in  the  Spring  and 
early  Summer  


CONTENTS  OF  VOLUME  II. 


CHAPTER  I. 

View  from  the  Arc  dn  Carrousel — Two  pretty  little 
gardens  close  to  the  Louvre — The  Jardin  des  Tui- 
leries — Place  de  la  Concorde — The  Champs  ]£rysees — 
Its  origin  and  present  appearance — Why  the  Cours 
la  Heine  was  constructed — Modern  life  in  the  Elysian 
fields — A  vista  without  a  rival — Flowering  plants  and 
playing  fountains — An  attractive  promenade  on  Sun- 
days— The  Wide  Avenue  leading  up  to  the  Arch  of 
Triumph — A  field  for  philosophical  observation 

CHAPTER  II. 

Boulevards  of  the  Capital — The  main  one  is  nearly  three 
miles  long  and  bears  many  names — An  admirable 
thoroughfare — It  starts  at  the  Bastile  and  ends  at  the 
Madeleine — Beaumarchais,  the  author-poet — Mansion 
of  a  once  notorious  lady — Little  cafes,  little  restau- 
rants and  little  stores — Scene  of  an  intended  assas- 
sination— Numerous  theatres  along  the  way — The 
moving  centre  of  Paris — Famous  Boulevard  Mont- 
martre,  with  its  many  joys  and  misfortunes — A  pas- 
sage named  in  honour  of  Robert  Fulton — The  street 
of  mad  pleasure — Place  de  V Opera  and  the  National 
Academy  of  Music — A  most  remarkable  edifice  out- 
side and  inside  

CHAPTER  III. 

The  divine  art  of  music — First  Opera  House  in  the  capi- 
tal—Development of  the  ballet — Arrival  in  Paris  of 


X 


CONTENTS. 


Gluck  and  Piccini — "  Ramists  "  and  "Lullists" — 
The  famous  Vestris — A  theatre  built  in  sixty  days — 
Assassination  of  the  Due  de  Berri — Debuts  in  Paris 
of  Taglioni  and  Fanny  Elssler — More  about  the  Opera 
House — A  peep  behind  the  curtain — Stage  hands, 
musicians,  dancers,  and  singers — One  hundred  and 
twenty-five  dressing-rooms — Several  green  rooms — 
The  foyer  de  la  danse — A  most  luxurious  hall  for  the 
ballet  stars — Portraits  of  distinguished  dancers       .  39 

CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Stage  a  part  of  life  to  all  Parisians — History  of  the 
Drama  in  the  Capital — Appearance  of  the  Trouba- 
dours— The  first  theatre — Brothers  of  the  Passion 
troupe — Satire  a  favourite  weapon  with  some  actors 
— Their  troubles  with  the  Clergy — Arrival  of  for- 
eign artistes — Farcical  plays  predominant — Cardinal 
Richelieu's  support  of  the  drama — Corneille  and 
Moliere — Origin  of  the  Opera  Comique — Founding  of 
the  "  first  theatre  in  the  world" — State  recognition 
of  dramatic  instruction — The  Comedie  Francaise  a 
part  and  parcel  of  the  National  glory — Anecdotes  of 
Napoleon  and  the  Stage  62 

CHAPTER  V. 
Anecdotes  of  French  actors  and  actresses— Histrionic 
ability  and  beauty  of  Mademoiselle  Mars — The  pro- 
duction of  an  apothecary— How  Napoleon  gave  his 
likeness  to  a  comedienne— A  theatre  where  the 
French  language  is  well  pronounced— The  romantic 
school  of  acting— Rows  over  plays— A  Paris  theatre 
governed  by  decrees  drawn  up  at  Moscow— Socie- 
taires  and  pensionnaires  in  the  company— Their  sal- 
aries and  benefits— How  pieces  are  received  or 
rejected— Anecdotes  of  how  Dumas,  Sardou,  Augier, 
etc.,  read  their  plays  to  the  committee— Museum  of 
the  Comedie  Francaise— Statue  of  Voltaire— Remi- 
niscences of  the  famous  Foyer  80 


CONTENTS. 


xi 


CHAPTER  VI. 

The  Paris  Conservatory— Founded  one  hundred  and  eight- 
een years  ago — Talma  was  its  first  great  graduate — 
How  the  music  of  the  "  Chant  du  Depart "  was  com- 
posed— Present  organisation  of  the  famous  institu- 
tion— Pour  annual  competitions  held — State  control 
over  all  graduates — The  Conservatoire  buildings— 
Now  a  Musical  College  and  Dramatic  School — Its 
chief  aim  and  purpose — A  liberal,  theoretic,  and  prac- 
tical system  of  education—The  good  results  obtained  100 

CHAPTER  VII. 

The  great  work  of  the  Third  Republic — How  the  Capital 
has  been  improved  and  embellished — The  bridges  of 
Paris — Thirty  of  them  within  the  city  limits — The 
Bievre  rivulet — Course  of  the  River  Seine  through 
historic  grounds — Battlefield  between  the  people  and 
the  Royal  Guards — Treasure  trove — The  famous  Pont 
Neuf — Palace  of  the  Legion  d'Honneur — A  bridge 
constructed  of  stones  from  the  old  Bastille — The 
Quai  d'Orsay — Wanderings  of  the  river — Some  sixty 
different  quays  along  its  shores — Numerous  curiosity 
shops  in  the  Quai  Voltaire — Old  prints,  old  portraits 
and  old  volumes — The  land  of  wholesale  wine  mer- 
chants  115 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Religious  edifices  in  the  Capital — Abbeys  and  churches 
built  by  the  clergy  in  early  times — The  first  cathedral 
— Sketch  of  Notre  Dame — A  Temple  of  Reason  dur- 
ing the  Revolution — The  wonderful  things  which  the 
place  has  witnessed — Coronation  of  Napoleon  and 
his  Empress — A  church  without  towers  and  without 
bells — Beautiful  Sainte  Chapelle — Sainte  Eustache, 
near  the  public  markets — The  ancient  cloister  of 
Saint  Severin — Splendid  example  of  sixteenth  cen- 


xii 


CONTENTS. 


tury  architecture — A  masterpiece  of  wood  carving — 
The  Church  of  Saint  Sulpice— Saint  Germain  des  Pres 
—Why  the  Church  of  Saint  Germain  P  Auxerrois  was 
pillaged — The  edifice  upon  Montmartre— One  hun- 
dred and  forty-two  churches  but  no  churchyards — 
The  different  cemeteries  and  their  famous  occupants  138 


CHAPTER  IX. 

free  Colleges  since  the  earliest  times — The  first  educa- 
tional establishments — Study  of  Philosophy  and  The- 
ology— Grands  and  Petits  Lycees — Annual  appro- 
priation to  public  instruction  by  the  State — Classes 
free  to  all  in  the  superior  grades — The  primary 
schools — School  buildings  large,  light  and  airy — 
Things  which  surprise  foreigners,  as  for  instance  free 
lunches — The  keynote  of  public  school  administra- 
tion— Manual  labour  in  the  program — Special  atten- 
tion given  to  domestic  economy — The  pedagogic 
methods — Mixed  schools  not  popular — The  pay  of 
teachers — Cost  of  public  instruction  in  France  about 
#60,000,000  annually  .174 


CHAPTER  X 

Napoleon's  "  Goose  with  the  Golden  Eggs  " — The  ]5cole 
Polytechnique — Its  centennial  celebrated  in  1894 — 
Pleiades  of  remarkable  men  who  graduated  from  its 
classes — The  genesis  of  its  legendary  popularity — 
Anecdote  of  Napoleon — Ridiculous  authority  of  the 
Bourbons — How  the  students  won  popularity — The 
conduct  of  young  de  Freycinet— Students  in  the  role 
of  conciliators  between  government  and  insurrection 
— Free  at  last  of  all  party  quarrels — Poor  accommo- 
dations for  the  Polytechnicians— Dormitories  and  re- 
fectories— Their  daily  rations  and  their  work — The 
clock  of  Berzelius — Drinking  place  of  Mother  Pros- 
per    .   197 


CONTENTS. 


xiii 


CHAPTER  XT. 

ihe  government  of  France — Meeting  place  of  the  Depu- 
ties— Once  a  mansion  of  princely  pleasures — Two 
fronts  to  the  Palais  Bourbon — Hall  of  Lost  Footsteps, 
and  that  of  Four  Columns — The  reading  room  and 
the  library — The  Salle  des  Seances  an  imposing  cham- 
ber— Five  hundred  and  fifty-eight  Deputies — Eight 
ornine  political  parties  in  the  house — How  members 
must  address  the  assembly — Take  their  turn,  as  reg- 
istered, in  speaking — The  Senate  sits  in  the  Palace 
of  the  Luxembourg — Two  hundred  and  ninety-seven 
members — A  quiet  body — The  presiding  officers  in 
both  houses — How  they  are  chosen — Anecdotes  of 
different  Speakers — The  standing  committee — 
Official  homes  of  the  three  Presidents — The  Cabinet 
officers  218 

CHAPTER  XII. 

The  parks  of  Paris — The  art  of  gardening — Jardin  des 
Tuileries  and  that  of  the  Luxembourg — The  plus 
belle  parure  of  the  capital — Sketch  of  the  Bois  de 
Boulogne — Once  a  forest  where  wolves  and  bears 
abounded — Xow  the  favourite  resort  of  "  Tout 
Paris" — Two  large  race  courses — Seventy  miles  of 
carriage  and  bridle  roads,  forty-five  miles  of  lakes 
and  twenty  miles  of  running  waters — How  the  city 
makes  money  out  of  its  parks — The  wide  thorough- 
fares of  the  capital — Over  one  hundred  thousand 
trees  in  Paris  outside  of  its  parks  and  gardens         .  249 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

The  paths  of  knowledge  and  enlightenment — An  institu- 
tion of  incomparable  greatness— Over  three  million 
printed  books  in  the  National  Library — Its  reading 
rooms — The  hotel  and  family  of  De  Nevers — Finan- 
cial establishments  in  Paris — The  Bank  of  France — 
Its  governor  and  board  of  directors — The  annual  bal- 
ance sheet — A  most  extraordinary  cash  box — The 


xiv 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Bourse,  or  stock  exchange — Membership  limited  to 
sixty  brokers— Seats  worth  over  $325,000— The  Cou- 
lisse, or  street  board — The  Petit  Bourse     .      .      .  269 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

A  subterranean  city  beneath  Paris— The  capital  built 
over  a  series  of  chasms — Sewers,  catacombs  and  old 
stone  quarries — Those  who  are  down  in  the  classic 
under-town — Eight  hundred  miles  of  drain — The 
principle  posed  by  Professor  Pasteur — Essential  con- 
ditions of  salubrity — Three  main  sewers  and  nu- 
merous secondary  ones — The  Collecteur  d' Asnieres — 
That  of  Marceau  and  that  of  clu  Nord — Siphon  under 
the  river — Vegetable  gardens  of  Genevilliers — All 
telegraph  wires  and  water  pipes  are  in  the  sewers — 
How  the  Paris  sewers  are  constructed — Immense 
amount  of  water  consumed — The  site  of  Paris,  and 
how  the  city  came  up  out  of  it — A  visit  to  the  Paris 
sewers — Banqueting  beneath  the  capital — Miles  on 
miles  of  catacombs,  and  over  five  million  human 
skulls  280 


CHAPTER  XV. 

The  final  one — End  of  an  imperfect  attempt  to  show 
why  Paris  is  so  attractive — A  resume  of  its  almost 
countless  splendours — Two  hundred  thousand  trees 
and  only  eighty-five  thousand  houses  within  the  forti- 
fications— The  striking  statistics  of  daily  existence  — 
A  great  city  for  vehicles — The  Octroi  duty — Rental 
value  of  all  private  buildings — Annual  expenses 
about  $65,000,000 — A  summing  up  of  this  study  of 
the  greatest  of  all  great  cities  329 

Index.   339 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


VOLUME  I 


Scene  in  the  Boulevard  ....  Frontispiece 
Paris  in  the  XII  Century        .       .        Facing  page  14 

Paris  besieged  by  the  Normans        .       .  32 

Palais  de  Justice  and  Conciergerie        .  47 

The  Grand  Provost  on  his  Horse  of  Stone  72 

Tower  and  Garden  of  Saint  Jacques  .  98 
Luxembourg  Palace  and  Garden  in  the 

time  of  Louis  XIV   ....  "110 

Old  Hotel  de  Sens   "118 

Golden  Hall  in  the  Louvre      ...  "  138 

The  Venus  de  Milo  .....  "  140 

Palace  of  the  Tuileries     ....  "  146 

Chateau  and  Chapel  at  Versailles    .       .  "  194 

Sleeping  Eoom  of  Louis  XIV  at  Versailles  "  200 

Military  Funeral  at  the  Invalides    .       .  "  234 

Napoleon's  Eesting-place  ....  "  240 


Hear  Entrance  to  the  Tuileries  Palace  during  " 

Third  Empire   "  316 

Old  Fontaine  des  Innocents  .       .       .       .        "  352 

VOLUME  II 

Arc  du  Carrousel     ....        Facing  page  4 


Jardin  des  Tuileries   "14 

Porte  Saint  Denis   "22 

Sainte  Chapelle   "  54 

Theatre  Francais.    (Burned  in  1900.)     .  "  76 

Destruction  of  the  Bastille       ...  "110 


xvi  LIST  OF  ILLUSTEATIONS 


Old  Bridge  covered  with  Houses      .      Facing  Page  116 

Chamber  of  Deputies        ....  a  124 

The  Foreign  Office   "130 

Pont  des  Arts  and  Institute     ...  "  184 

The  Senate  House     .       .  "224 

Park  and  Palace  of  the  Elysee  .  "  244 

The  Bourse,  or  Stock  Exchange      .      .  "276 

Monument  to  Jeanne  d'Arc     ...  "  330 

Scene  in  Pare  Monceau    ....  "  336 


PREFACE. 


Long  before  the  commencement  of  our  Chris- 
tian Era,  a  fugitive  people  in  Europe,  driven 
from  their  primitive  territory  during  one  of  the 
innumerable  wars  of  antiquity,  camped  near 
the  frontier  of  some  lands  then  occupied  by  a 
tribe  of  Senones.  They  chose  for  their  future 
home  an  island  of  a  river  flowing  through  that 
region.  A  century  later  Julius  Caesar  and  his 
victorious  forces  invaded  the  country,  and  one 
of  the  towns  which  the  Romans  founded  was 
situated  on  the  very  island  where  the  primitive 
nomads  had  settled  their  abode — in  all  subse- 
quent history  it  is  known  as  the  He  de  la  Cite — 
and  they  held  it  for  almost  five  hundred  years. 
The  Romans  called  their  town  Lutetia ;  it  en- 
joyed no  privileges  whatever ;  it  was  not  until 
the  end  of  the  fourth  century  that  the  place 
passed  from  the  condition  of  vectigale  to  that 
of  municipe ;  and  the  story  that  is  to  be  told 


2 


PAKIS. 


in  this  presen.  work  is  of  that  town,  which,  as 
time  rolled  on,  became  known  throughout  the 
world  as  the  capital  of  Europe. 

"Paris  n'a  pas  ete  bati  dans  un  jour,"  says 
an  old  adage  ;  and  to  it  may  be  added  the  re- 
mark that  each  and  every  part  of  Parisian  soil 
and  history  is  an  inexhaustible  mine  of  sou- 
venirs and  traditions.  It  is  my  purpose  to 
relate  some  of  the  salient  and  picturesque  in- 
cidents in  that  history,  to  describe  the  more 
important  institutions,  to  speak  of  the  palaces 
and  monuments  which  have  ever  marked  the 
city  with  their  charms  and  beauty.  It  is  no 
easy  task,  this  attempt  to  picture  h  la  'plume 
the  remarkable  physiognomy,  the  marvellous 
individuality,  the  wonderful  beauty,  the  seri- 
ous intelligence,  the  earnestness,  and  the  steady 
growth  during  twenty  centuries,  of  the  great 
metropolis.  Still,  we  shall  endeavour  to  see,  at 
least  briefly,  all  the  immense  and  picturesque 
history  of  the  great  capital.  Passing  over  the 
primitive  ignorance  which  first  gave  life  to  the 
settlement  on  the  little  island  that  became  the 
sombre  cradle  of  the  Cite,  we  shall  see  two 


PEEFACE. 


3 


towns  arise  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Seine. 
We  shall  go  into  the  muddy,  ill-smelling  streets 
of  Paris,  while  Julian  the  Apostate  was  still  its 
governor,  when  valiant  Genevieve  saved  the 
place  from  Atilla  and  his  hordes,  while  the 
barbarian  Francs  were  in  possession,  when  it 
was  under  the  first  Capitiens,  and  when  its 
second  wall  was  built.  Into  and  out  of  the 
Mediaeval  Ages,  we  shall  hurry  along  its  first 
pavements,  as  later  on  we  shall  see  the  Paris  of 
Frangois  I.  and  the  Paris  of  the  Renaissance. 
After  that  we  shall  find  ourselves  among  the 
Parisians  of  the  Grand  Steele,  when  the  "  Sun 
King  "  reigned ;  and  finally  be  among  Paris- 
ians of  the  Regency  and  of  the  Revolution,  of 
the  Consulate  and  of  the  First  Empire,  of  the 
Restoration  and  of  the  last  Kingdom,  of  the 
gilded  Empire  and  of  the  present  time.  In 
brief,  by  patient  study  and  careful  selection, 
we,  that  is  to  say,  the  author  and  his  indulgent 
readers,  shall  assist  at  the  birth,  the  baptism, 
the  development,  the  growth  of  a  miserable 
hamlet  on  a  lonely  island  to  village,  town  and 
city,  until  it  reaches  its  present  splendid  pro- 


4 


PAKIS. 


portions.  And  the  author's  hope  is  that  his 
efforts  here  will  interest  historians  with  a  recol- 
lection of  events  which  have  been  occurring  dur- 
ing two  thousand  years ;  interest  thinkers  with 
historical  information ;  interest  philosophers 
with  souvenirs  of  labour  and  of  the  struggle  of 
progress ;  interest  artists  with  reproductions  of 
remarkable  monuments ;  interest  antiquarians 
and  archeologists  with  retrospective  sketches  of 
places  now  in  ruins,  and  of  national  relics  which 
include  crowns  worn  by  the  Morovingians  ;  in- 
terest the  English-reading  people  generally 
with  an  account  of  the  most  magnificent  city 
of  modern  times.  In  these  efforts  he  will  en- 
deavour to  write  of  the  Ville  Lumiere  and  its 
long  record  clearly  and  accurately,  so  that  each 
person,  when  he  or  she  has  finished  with  the 
book,  will  be  able  to  say  he  knows  more  of  the 
religious,  political,  moral,  economical,  social, 
and  intellectual  history,  of  the  perfections  and 
the  imperfections,  of  Paris  than  was  ever 
known  before. 

It  is  true  that  the  charms  of  the  wonderful 
capital  are  already  widely  appreciated.  The 


PREFACE. 


5 


poet  Henri  Heine,  although  German  born, 
often  wrote  and  spoke  of  the  surprising  and 
enchanting  effect  which  Paris  invariably  pro- 
duced on  him,  even  as  it  does  on  all  foreigners. 
But  there  is  hardly  a  period  in  its  history  when 
the  capital  has  not  been  an  object  of  profound 
admiration.  To  speak  only  of  more  recent 
times,  some  of  the  most  famous  men  on  earth 
have  been  among  its  visitors.  They  went  there 
from  all  parts  of  the  globe,  and  they  saw  in  it 
something  more  than  splendid  palaces,  sump- 
tuous edifices,  or  a  multiplicity  of  promenades, 
avenues  and  boulevards.  To  them  Paris  had 
a  charm  independent  of  its  external  beauty. 
Among  celebrated  Englishmen,  Richardson, 
John  Wilkes,  Horace  Walpole,  Gibbon,  Hume 
and  Sterne ;  among  Americans,  Thomas  Jeffer- 
son, Benjamin  Franklin,  and  Robert  Fulton 
breathed  with  delight  its  intellectual  atmos- 
phere. "Ah,  if  I  were  only  rich  and  in- 
dependent," exclaimed  Gibbon  with  a  sigh,  "  I 
should  always  live  in  Paris."  Hume  wrote: 
"  I  once  thought  of  establishing  myself  in 
Paris  for  the  rest  of  my  days."    Both  gave 


6 


PARIS. 


the  inexpressible  sweetness  of  the  intellectual 
life  that  existed  in  the  capital  as  the  reason  for 
this  attachment. 

In  May,  1827,  Goethe  said:  " Imagine  a  city 
where  the  best  brains  are  all  in  relation,  by 
daily  emulation,  mutually  instructing  and  up- 
lifting each  other ;  where  all  that  Nature,  Art 
and  Science  offers  that  is  most  remarkable  is 
accessible  each  day  to  study;  a  city  where 
each  step  on  a  bridge  or  on  a  public  place  re- 
calls a  great  past,  where  at  the  corner  of  every 
street  a  fragment  of  history  is  displayed.  And 
again  imagine,  not  the  Paris  of  a  faded  age  but 
Paris  of  the  Ninteenth  Century,  in  which  men 
equal  to  Moliere,  Voltaire,  or  Dideron  have 
put  in  circulation  an  abundance  of  ideas  such 
as  one  finds  nowhere  else  on  earth,  and  then 
perhaps  you  will  understand  how  Ampere, 
living  in  the  midst  of  so  much  richness,  could 
become  so  great  at  the  age  of  twenty-four." 

"With  Goethe  the  author  permits  himself  to 
say  that  each  and  every  step  on  most  of  the 
Paris  bridges,  or  in  its  older  gardens  and 
squares,  recalls  a  glorious  past,  and  that  a  frag- 


PREFACE.  7 

ment  of  history  can  be  seen  at  nearly  every 
corner.  For  fifteen  years  lie  lived  within  the 
enchantments  of  this  metropolis  of  letters,  arts, 
and  sciences,  of  fashions  and  good  taste,  of  in- 
door charms  and  outdoor  beauties ;  and,  among 
men  and  women  whose  characters  seemed  al- 
ways animated  with  the  souvenirs  of  their  city, 
he  partook  of  the  hospitality  of  its  educational 
institutions.  During  those  pleasant  working 
years  in  the  French  capital,  the  writer  never 
strolled  through  certain  old  streets  without 
thinking  of  the  city's  past,  even  as  he  admired 
its  present  and  marvelled  at  its  great  mind. 
Whoever  can  do  so  goes  some  time,  if  not  to 
live  in  it,  at  least  to  see,  this  city  of  strange  and 
interesting  contrasts.  A  German  duke  once 
said  that  he  would  be  well  contented  with  a 
principality  anywhere  north  of  the  Rhine,  or 
an  apartment  on  the  Paris  Boulevard,  and  it 
mattered  not  which  to  him.  Not  very  long 
ago,  a  sovereign  in  Europe,  who  is  something 
of  a  traveller,  was  asked  which  city  in  France 
he  considered  the  most  beautiful. 
"  Orleans/'  he  replied. 


8 


PARIS. 


"Ah,  indeed!  then  how  about  Paris?"  de- 
manded his  questioner. 

"  Paris  is  not  a  city,  it  is  a  world,"  ex- 
claimed the  monarch.  "  If  I  were  a  French- 
man, I  should  certainly  call  it  the  soul  of 
modern  society." 

To-day  there  are  some  three  hundred  or  four 
hundred  cities  scattered  about  the  face  of  the 
earth,  each  of  which  counts  more  than  one  hun- 
dred thousand  inhabitants,  and  these  are  so 
steadily  increasing  in  size  as  to  warrant  their 
pride  in  themselves.  But  when  a  few  more 
centuries  of  time  have  passed  away,  when  other 
ages  have  elapsed  since  Thebes,  Mneveh,  Baby- 
lon and  Carthage  were  blotted  out,  how  many 
of  those  cities  will  be  more  than  a  mass  of 
debris  ?  Only  Athens  and  Rome  are  left  us  to 
play  the  parts  in  modern  civilisation  that  they 
assumed  in  antiquity.  In  all  probability  there 
are  only  a  few  capital  cities  which  will  never 
die ;  there  are  evidences  enough  to  assume  the 
perpetuity  of  their  continued  existence,  and 
Paris  is  one  of  these.  It  is  the  metropolis 
where  the  Five  Divisions  of  the  globe  concen- 


PKEPACE. 


9 


trate,  and  with  their  contributions  added  to 
tliat  of  its  own  citizens,  it  naturally  becomes 
the  greatest  Cosmopolitan  Capital  on  earth. 
It  will  last  forever,  and  in  the  far  distant 
future,  even  as  now,  its  people  will  proudly 
cry,  civis  Parisi  sum. 

Let  us  stop  just  for  a  moment  to  see  where 
the  capital  of  France  differs  from  other  great 
European  cities.  London,  the  colossal,  is,  in 
its  insular  loneliness,  the  absolute  product  of  a 
single  race,  and  in  her  contemporary  expansion 
represents  precisely  the  same  factor  as  Carthage 
did  vis-d-vis  antique  civilisation. 

Berlin  and  Brussels,  two  centres  of  popula- 
tion developed  almost  entirely  by  politics,  get 
their  own  reason  for  existence  from  history 
alone.  Madrid  and  St.  Petersburg  are  two 
defiances  hurled  at  nature  by  a  king  and  an 
emperor ;  the  latter  by  building  a  city  in  a  swamp 
at  the  farther  edge  of  a  broad  gulf,  the  former 
by  founding  one  in  the  middle  of  a  wide  plain. 
Vienna,  the  Paris  of  the  Orient,  and  where  so 
many  different  races  mix  unequally,  is  a  fine 
stage  set  for  grand  opera;  but  where  only 


10  PARIS. 

comic  pieces  are  ever  sung.  Lisbon  and  Con- 
stantinople, one  on  the  Golden  Horn,  tlie  other 
at  the  mouth  of  the  river  Tagus,  are  two  ad- 
vanced posts  at  the  extreme  east  and  the 
extreme  west  of  Europe,  both  close  to  the  con- 
tinent of  Africa,  and  yet  neither  is  fit  to  live. 
Finally  only  Rome  is  left,  and  of  her  it  may  be 
said  she  was  twice  Queen  of  the  World ;  but 
she  is  not  that  now,  and  never  will  be  again. 

The  French  have  long  had  a  saying,  which  is 
so  true  and  old  that  it  may  be  classed  as  a 
proverb :  "  Qui  aime  la  France,  aime  Paris. 
Que  ne  connait  Paris,  ignore  la  France."  It  is 
a  true  saying :  for  to  love  France,  is  to  love 
Paris ;  and  whoever  does  not  know  the  capital, 
cannot  properly  claim  to  know  that  country. 
Not  that  the  City  is  of  greater  importance  than 
the  State ;  but  because  Paris  is  really  the  soul, 
the  throbbing  heart  of  the  great  land,  and  in 
the  long  history  of  France  it  has  been  the  hero- 
martyr  on  many  different  occasions.  True, 
there  are  those  who  do  not  take  this  view  of 
Paris,  who  speak  glibly  of  it  as  a  modern  Baby- 
lon, a  city  of  disorder  and  vain  amusements. 


PREFACE. 


11 


But  it  is  also  true  that  there  are  numerous 
vices  in  other  large  cities ;  and  perhaps,  when 
proportion  to  population  is  considered,  there 
may  be  fewer  crimes  committed  in  Paris  than 
there  are  in  Berlin,  New  York  or  London. 

While  the  French  capital  is  la  ville  ou  Von 
s* amuse,  it  also  is  that  city  of  the  world  where 
persons  study  and  work  the  most.  Paris  is  the 
battlefield  of  labour,  and  without  mentioning 
its  savants,  surgeons,  men  of  letters,  painters, 
sculptors,  architects,  physicians,  lawyers,  and 
other  earnest  students  in  and  professors  of 
every  branch  of  Science,  Philosophy  and  the 
Liberal  Arts,  it  may  truthfully  be  asserted  that 
to  its  free  scientific  colleges  and  art  ateliers,  to 
its  schools  and  studios,  flock  men  and  women 
from  every  country  on  earth,  seeking  knowledge 
and  not  vain  amusements ;  attracted  to  Paris, 
and  kept  there,  not  by  its  vices  or  its  pleasures, 
but  by  its  artistic  and  aesthetic  treasures,  its 
brilliant  ideas,  its  rich  music,  its  fine  literature, 
its  beautiful  mind,  its  undoubted  excellence  in 
everything.  Truly,  it  is  the  first  place  of  wide 
and  high  instruction  on  earth.    It  is  not  alone 


12 


PARIS. 


the  palpitating  heart  of  a  powerful  nation;  it  is 
much  more  than  that.  It  is  the  great  and  uni- 
versal workshop  of  thought  and  labour,  the 
grand  forge  where  all  materials  which  suggest 
ideas  are  wrought  into  substantial  form.  This 
is  why  Paris  is  generally  spoken  of  as  the  capi- 
tal of  civilisation ;  and  even  as  Washington  is 
the  Federal  city  of  our  national  Union,  so  may 
Paris  some  day  become  the  Federal  city  of  the 
United  States  of  Europe.    Satis  superque. 

The  Authok. 


Paris  :  Past  and  Present 

Volume  I 


PART  ONE. 


"  Some  smack  of  age  in  you,  some  relish  of 
the  saltness  of  time." — Shakespeare. 

"  Comment  s*  est  forme  ce  chef  lieu  supreme?  " 
— Victor  Hugo. 


CHAPTER  I. 


Primitive  days  of  the  Parises — The  Eoman  occupa- 
tion of  five  hundred  years — Palace  of  the  Thermes 
and  its  present  ruins — The  treacherous  crime  of  an 
early  sovereign — An  ancient  amphitheatre  near 
the  modern  Sorbonne. 

The  river  Seine,  which,  since  its  joining  the 
River  Marne  and  until  it  reaches  the  sea,  twists 
and  winds  about  like  a  snake  in  the  grass,  be- 
gins near  the  Southern  Railway  (Paris,  Lyons 
et  Mediterranee)  station  to  take  on  wider 
stretch,  and  soon  a  group  of  seven  islands  ap- 
pears in  midstream.  The  largest  of  these,  the 
one  best  defended  against  the  wash  of  river 
flow,  resembles  somewhat  in  its  shape  a  vessel 
stranded  in  the  middle  of  the  current,  and  this 
island  has  been  known  from  time  immemorial 
as  the  He  de  la  Cite.  In  primitive  days  these 
islands  served  as  refuge  or  place  of  safety  for 
the  savages  of  the  surrounding  clans  during 
their  continual  wars,  one  of  which  clans  was  a 
feeble  tribe  of  Gauls  called  Parises  (or  Parisii,  as 
the  Romans  wrote  it),  and  the  largest  island 


14 


PAKIS. 


was  their  main  resort.  It  was  well  chosen  for 
defense,  and  they  held  it  as  their  own  exclu- 
sively until  the  Romans  came  and  conquered. 
Centuries  rolled  by,  and  then,  in  memory  of 
the  earliest  inhabitants,  the  place  was  named 
Paris. 

Let  me  here  attempt  to  picture  the  site  of 
this  great  and  ancient  town,  as  seen  from  the 
high  terrace  of  St.  Cloud,  whereon  the  "  Lanterne 
de  Demosthene  "  stood  previous  to  the  war  with 
Germany  in  1870.  Before  us  opens  a  plain 
dominated  on  every  side,  near  or  in  the  middle 
distance,  by  heights  and  hills.  Those  farthest 
off ,  beginning  on  our  left  and  going  all  the  way 
around  to  where  we  stand,  are :  the  low  col- 
lines  of  Gennevilliers  with  Mt.  Valerian  boldly 
prominent ;  St.  Germain  and  its  magnificent 
terrace  ;  Poissy,  and  then  Pontoise  ;  the  hills  of 
Montmorency;  the  hillocks  of  Van  jours;  the 
bluff  of  Champigny ;  the  heights  of  Villejuif, 
and  those  of  Montrouge ;  and,  finally,  the 
wooded  slopes  of  Meudon.  The  nearer  uplifts, 
those  within  the  fortifications,  are  the  "  moun- 
tain "  of  Sainte  Genevieve,  the  isolated  hillock 
of  Montmartre,  the  heights  of  Belleville  and  of 
Menilmontant,  and  the  smart  rise  of  ground 
towards  where  stands  the  noble  Arc  de  Tri- 


PARIS  IK  THE  TWELFTH  CENTURY. 


PRIMITIVE  DAYS  OF  THE  PAKISES.  15 


omphe.  Inside  of  this  vast  amphitheatre  of 
low  and  lofty  hills,  serpentines  the  river  Seine 
with  the  capital  stretching  along  both  its  banks, 
and  all  this  wide  basin  was,  in  that  epoch  called 
diluvian,  a  great  lake.  By-and-by,  however, 
after  centuries  on  centuries  of  erosion,  and  when 
the  site  had  passed  its  quarternary  period,  its 
glacial  period,  all  its  other  prehistoric  periods, 
the  waters  began  to  retire,  finally  drying  up 
altogether,  so  that  the  plain  we  are  overlooking, 
and  the  stream  seeking  its  way  to  the  ocean, 
are  all  that  is  left  of  the  inland  sea  that  once 
covered  the  now  Parisian  land  where  the  small 
town  of  Lutetia  was  started  in  the  long  ago. 
Why  so-called  no  one  has  yet  been  able  to  dis- 
cover; enough  for  us  to  say,  Caesar  willed  it 
so,  and  in  due  course  of  time  he  visited  his  new 
possessions. 

A  while  later  the  Romans  came  in  numbers 
to  remain ;  for  their  rule  was,  that  when  they 
had  gained  a  country  they  installed  themselves 
among  the  conquered  as  administrators,  to  col- 
lect taxes,  and  to  compel  observance  of  Roman 
laws.  They  were  doing  this  throughout  Gaul, 
as  in  other  countries  ;  and  they  were  too  intelli- 
gent not  to  appreciate  the  advantages  of  the 
situation  of  their  new  settlement.    They  built 


16 


PARIS, 


houses  on  the  island  like  those  at  home,  these 
were  imitated  by  the  natives,  and  the  village 
grew.  Streets  were  laid  out,  a  market-place 
established,  bridges  constructed,  and  as  the 
people  increased  in  number  they  also  gained  in 
material  wealth.  The  island  was  soon  too 
small  for  the  new  industrial  and  commercial 
town.  It  became  overcrowded  with  little  mer- 
chants, laborers,  and  fishermen,  so  the  poorer 
inhabitants  went  outside  the  city  and  built 
themselves  cabins  where  the  land  was  cheaper; 
thus  faubourgs  sprang  into  existence.  The 
first  of  these  included  as  suburb  the  spot  now 
marked  by  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  as  the  city  hall 
is  called ;  and  the  second  faubourg  was  off  to 
the  south,  where  the  Place  Maubert  is. 

Meanwhile,  rich  Romans  erected  fine  subur- 
ban villas '  on  the  plain  northward  ;  that  is  to 
say,  somewhere  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
present  Palais  Royal,  as  they  did  also  upon  the 
isolated  buttes  now  embraced  in  Montmartre  and 
Passy.  Some  of  them  went  so  far  away  from 
the  island  as  the  hillocks  off  to  the  southwest 
where  the  Quartier  de  Yaugirard  now  exists. 
As  for  the  Roman  soldiers,  they  were  perma- 
nently camped  on  the  slopes  that  overlooked  the 
river  from  the  south, — actually  the  Luxembourg 


THE  ROMAN  OCCUPATION.  17 

grounds,  the  Boulevard  Saint  Michel  and  the 
Sorbonne.  Thus  a  military  city  grew  up  close 
to  the  commercial  city  and  surveyed  it  from 
above ;  and  thus  a  Gallo-Romaine  population 
was  formed,  for  the  Komans  and  the  Gauls 
mingled  freely.  Everybody  in  Lutetia  soon 
spoke  Latin  and  Celtic;  the  tongue  of  their 
fathers  was  forgotten  by  the  natives,  and  when 
Tiberius  came  to  be  emperor  (A.  D.  14)  half  a 
century  after  the  conquest,  this  population  of 
merchants  and  fishermen  had  already  adopted 
the  religion  of  the  invaders. 

The  Roman  domination  lasted  for  five  hundred 
years,  and  during  that  period  the  empire  cov- 
ered Gaul  with  excellent  roads,  stone  bridges, 
splendid  aqueducts,  sumptuous  country  houses, 
grand  palaces,  fine  theatres  and  noble  trium- 
phal arches.  The  ruins  of  some  of  these  con- 
structions at  Paris  are  still  in  existence,  as  for 
instance  the  Palais  des  Thermes  and  the  Am- 
phitheatre. 

On  the  left  bank  of  the  river  Seine,  a 
short  distance  from  that  stream,  and  just  where 
the  boulevards  Saint  Germain  and  Saint 
Michel  cross  each  other  in  the  Latin  quarter, 
the  passerby  may  notice  a  small  but  pretty  gar- 
den enclosed  with  a  tall  fence  of  iron  bars. 


18  PARIS. 

Among  the  paths  and  along  the  allees  stand 
ancient  material,  such  as  broken  columns,  dis- 
figured capitals,  mutilated  statues,  sculptures 
half  gnawed  away  by  time,  inscriptions  on 
stones  that  are  almost  obliterated.  Looming 
over  this  fresh-looking  park  is  a  ruined  edifice 
of  antique  appearance,  and  it,  inside,  is  a  his- 
torical monument  of  grand  importance.  This 
garden,  this  edifice,  these  ruins,  are  the  rendez- 
vous of  historians,  artists,  antiquarians,  of  all 
others  who  are  interested  in  the  time  when 
Rome  ruled  the  world.  The  original  of  this 
picturesque  ruin  of  massive,  ivy-covered  walls 
built  of  bricks,  this  the  ancient  Palace  of  the 
Caesars,  was  of  immense  size,  if  we  may  believe 
Zosime  and  Marcellin,  the  historians,  what  with 
its  buildings  and  courts  on  the  side  toward  the 
Sorbonne,  its  f  agade  on  the  heights  of  the  hill, 
probably  alongside  of  the  Pantheon,  and  its 
gardens  descending  to  and  along  the  Seine  as 
far  as  where  the  abbey  grounds  of  Saint  Ger- 
main des  Pies  were  located  afterwards.  When 
Julian  came  to  Paris  this  palace  had  already 
been  in  existence  some  time,  and  it  was  proba- 
bly constructed  by  his  grandfather,  Constance 
Chlore,  who  lived  in  Lutetia  for  fifteen  years. 
In  his  "  Misopogon  "  Julian  speaks  of  passing 


THE  PALACE  OF  THE  THERMES.  19 


the  winter  in  his  "  dear  Lutetia,"  and  he  men- 
tions one  such  winter  which  was  so  cold  that 
fires  had  to  be  started  in  every  room  of  the  pal- 
ace to  keep  the  house  warm. 

Not  very  far  from  the  palace,  on  the  grounds 
now  occupied  by  the  Luxembourg  garden,  an 
army  of  Eoman  soldiers  was  encamped.  Jeal- 
ous of  Julian,  the  emperor  sent  him  orders  to 
march  two  Legions  home ;  this  with  the  secret 
intention  of  weakening  that  army  so  that  Julian 
might  be  arrested  if  necessary.  Informed  of 
this  intrigue,  several  officers  at  the  Palace  of 
the  Thermes  went  to  the  camp  and  gave  a  few 
circulars  to  some  soldiers  which  revealed  the 
project  that  the  emperor  had  in  view  and 
recalled  the  victories  of  J ulian  along  the  Rhine 
and  in  the  wars  against  the  Germans.  The  few 
communicated  this  news  to  their  comrades,  and 
soon  the  entire  camp  was  in  a  tumult,  the  up- 
shot of  which  was  officers  and  men  rushed  to 
the  palace,  placed  Julian  on  a  shield,  and  then 
set  the  imperial  crown  upon  his  head.  "  By 
force,"  Zosime  naively  adds,  as  if  Julian  were 
not  most  likely  the  principal  instigator  of  the 
revolt.  This  memorable  scene  took  place  on 
the  site  of  the  present  Boulevard  Saint  Michel 
fifteen  hundred  years  ago. 


20 


PARIS. 


The  Palace  of  the  Thermes  afterwards  be- 
came the  partial  residence  of  the  Franc  kings 
of  the  first  race,  but  those  of  the  second  race 
never  lived  at  Paris.  Gregoire  de  Tours  men- 
tions the  palace  in  his  curious  chronicles ;  and 
Clotilde  was  residing  there  with  her  three 
grandsons  when  the  latter  were  sent  for  by 
their  uncles  under  pretext  of  putting  them  in 
possession  of  the  heritage,  and  he  murdered  two 
of  them.  In  the  twelfth  century,  poet  Jean  de 
Hauteville  wrote  of  the  palace  in  his  verses  : 
"  Ce  palais  des  rois,  dont  les  cimes  s'el  event 
jusqu'aux  cieux  et  dont  les  fondations  atteig- 
nent  V  empire  des  morts.  Au  centre,  le  princi- 
pal corps  de  logis,  dont  les  ailes  s'etendent  sur 
le  meme  alignement,  et  se  deployant  de  chaque 
cote  semblent  embrasser  la  montagne."  This 
goes  to  show  that  the  immense  hall  which  one 
sees  to-day,  and  in  the  presence  of  which  one  is 
struck  with  astonishment  while  thinking  that  its 
still  solid  walls  have  had  an  existence  of  nearly 
two  thousand  years,  was  after  all  only  an  annex 
to  the  Palace  of  the  Caesars. 

At  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century  nothing 
remained  of  the  building  except  its  present 
ruins,  yet  these  are  remarkably  well  preserved, 
especially  a  large  vaulted  chamber  which  once 


THE  RUINS  OF  THE  THERMES.  21 


was  used  as  the  frigidarium  or  cold  baths.  It 
is  sixty-five  feet  long,  by  forty-five  feet  high 
and  of  great  width.  The  swimming  bath,  or 
tepidarium,  is  still  recognisable ;  it  is  a  hall 
of  bare  walls  fifty-five  feet  long  by  forty-nine 
feet  in  width ;  and  the  infiltrations  of  nine- 
teen centuries  of  rain  and  storms  have  not  made 
a  single  breach  in  its  solid  ceiling.  The  large 
trees,  the  earth  and  debris  which  long  lay  over 
the  vaulted  roof  of  this  old  palace  has  had  very 
little  effect  on  it.  The  ruined  furnace  and  hot 
air  conduits  which  were  used  to  warm  the  en- 
tire establishment  are  visible.  Water  for 
bathing  purposes  was  brought  from  a  distance 
of  eight  or  nine  miles  through  canals  and  sub- 
terranean conduits  ;  but  there  was  a  wide  deep 
valley  at  one  place,  and  here  a  splendid  aqueduct 
was  erected.  Of  this  Roman  aqueduct  the 
debris  of  two  or  three  arches  were  restored 
within  recent  years  and  are  now  plainly  visible 
outside  the  fortifications,  to  the  south  of  Paris, 
It  may  be  permitted  us  to  wonder  whether 
the  Roman  ruler  who  built  the  Thermes  ever 
imagined  it  would  be  the  theatre  of  such  a 
terrible  and  treacherous  crime,  as  happened 
there  after  the  establishment  of  the  Frankish 
kingdom  had  made  it  in  part  the  sojourn  of  the 


22 


PARIS. 


early  sovereigns.  One  evening  in  February  of 
the  year  814  two  horsemen  galloped  up  the 
street  and  entered  the  courtyard ;  the  Seneschal 
ordered  the  gate  to  be  closed  behind  them, 
then  he  requested  the  two  gentleman  to  hand 
over  their  swords,  and  they  were  informed  that 
Charlemagne  was  dead,  and  that  Louis  le  Debon- 
naire  was  on  the  throne.  The  Seneschal  led 
them  into  the  same  large  vaulted  hall  which  we 
have  just  been  visiting,  there  he  took  a  parch- 
ment that  was  sealed  with  the  royal  stamp  from 
his  pocket,  and,  glancing  at  it,  said  : 

"  Your  names,  gentlemen,  are  Raoul  de  Lys 
and  Robert  de  Quercy  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"Well,  you  are  my  prisoners,  and  my  orders 
are  to  keep  you  locked  up  until  to-morrow." 
"Why?" 

"  The  king's  orders  do  not  say  why,  but  they 
add  that  you  must  be  confined  in  separate 
rooms.  Of  what  crime  you  are  accused,  gentle- 
men, I  know  not.    I  am  only  obeying  orders." 

It  was  past  midnight.  Raoul  de  Lys  was 
left  in  the  guardroom,  the  walls  of  which 
were  hung  with  flags  and  suits  of  armour ;  but 
Robert  de  Quercy  was  taken  elsewhere. 

For  a  long  time  the  two  men  had  been  uni- 


THE  TREACHERY  OF  A  KING.  23 


ted  by  friendship,  and  by  dangers  shared  in 
common,  but  there  was  another  bond  of  union 
between  them.  They  loved,  each,  a  daughter 
of  Charlemagne,  sisters  to  the  new  king,  and 
Raoul  was  soon  dreaming  of  Rotrude,  while 
Robert  dreamt  of  Grisla.  Raoul's  slumbers 
were  broken  by  a  noise,  and  a  light  appeared 
on  the  wall  of  the  room  in  which  he  was  con- 
fined. He  perceived  a  sliding  panel  opening, 
and  through  it  came  Robert  leading  a  woman, 
who,  throwing  back  her  veil,  showed  the  fea- 
tures of  Princess  Gisla. 

"  Where  is  Rotrude  ? "  asked  de  Lys. 

Gisla  pointed  to  a  ring  in  the  floor,  and  with 
the  aid  of  a  spear  the  two  knights  managed  to 
lift  up  the  large  flagging  stone  to  which  was  it 
fastened.    A  secret  stairway  was  revealed. 

"  My  sister  will  soon  be  here,"  said  the 
princess.  "  We  know  that  you  are  both  in 
danger  and  wish  to  save  you.  Louis,  our 
brother,  will  arrive  to-morrow,  and  he  intends 
to  put  you  out  of  the  way  to  avenge  the  wrong 
which  he  claims  you  have  done  by  daring  to 
love  those  of  royal  birth.  When  that  is  done 
he  will  also  punish  us,  for  he  knows  we  love 
you." 

"  He  wants  to  give  you  and  Rotrude  to  for- 


24 


PARIS. 


eign  princes  ;  but  the  body  of  Charlemagne  is 
not  yet  cold,  nor  his  sceptre  warm  in  the  grasp 
of  Louis  " 

"  It  is  warm  enough  to  care  for  you !  "  inter- 
rupted a  voice,  and  the  king  appeared  in  the 
stairway,  from  which  the  stone  had  just  been 
removed,  dragging  behind  him  his  sister 
Rotrude,  and  followed  by  four  masked  men 
armed  to  the  teeth. 

"  An  escaped  dove  put  me  on  the  track,"  said 
he,  forcing  his  sister  to  sit  down  on  a  bench. 
"  I  know  all  the  secret  passages  of  this  old 
palace,  and  it  is  here  that  I  will  hold  my  first 
court  of  justice.  I  will  begin  with  you, 
Rotrude,  whom  I  met  flying  as  though  the 
approach  of  your  brother  had  frightened  you, 
and  these  four  gentlemen  who  accompany  me 
shall  be  the  witnesses  to  your  marriage.  It 
shall  be  celebrated  this  morning,  even  now. 
You  shall  marry  Raoul,  Baron  de  Lys,  and 
you,  sister  Gisla,  shall  marry  Robert,  Count  de 
Quercy,  two  of  the  bravest  knights  of  my  late 
father." 

"That  is  our  dearest  wish,"  answered  the 
two  knights.    "  We  are  at  your  orders." 

"  Then  put  on  these  suits  of  armour,"  said 
the  king,  with  a  glance  at  the  men  who  ac- 


THE  TBEACHERY  OF  A  KING.  25 

companied  him,  and  lie  added :  "  The  prin- 
cesses must  not  be  present  at  your  toilet  how- 
ever." So  Rotrude  and  Gisla  retired  into  the 
passageway.  They  believed  that  their  brother 
was  going  to  show  them  forgiveness,  and  yet 
they  still  felt  some  anxiety  as  to  the  outcome 
of  the  adventure.  The  two  young  men  re- 
moved their  suits  of  chain  armour  and  began  to 
put  on  those  handed  them  by  the  king's  at- 
tendants. After  awhile  the  princesses  were 
informed  that  their  lovers  were  ready  to  re- 
ceive them.  They  returned  to  the  guardroom 
where  they  found  Raoul  and  Robert  seated  in 
two  high-back  chairs,  their  visors  closed,  their 
heads  leaning  forward  on  their  breasts,  as  if 
engaged  in  prayer.  The  king  and  his  four 
masked  men  left  the  room;  the  princesses 
rushed  up  to  their  lovers,  but  were  unable  to 
get  them  to  say  a  word. 

In  1560  some  workmen  discovered  in  a  vault 
of  the  Palace  of  the  Thermes  an  iron  helmet, 
which  by  means  of  a  secret  spring  was  so  ar- 
ranged that  it  would  strangle  the  man  who 
placed  it  on  his  head.  There  was  a  human 
skull  in  this  helmet. 

Another  remarkable  evidence  of  the  Roman 
occupation  exists  to-day  in  what  is  known  as 


26 


PARIS. 


the  Arenes  of  Paris,  and  which  in  the  olden 
times  was  the  imperial  amphitheatre  of  Lutetia. 
It  stood  on  the  slope  of  what  was  then  Mont 
Lucolitius,  but  is  now  the  hill  of  Sainte  Gene- 
vieve, where  the  open  place  and  rue  of  Monge 
are  situated.  This  authenticated  fragment 
was  preserved  from  the  merciless  power  of  its 
would-be  demolishers  only  after  innumerable 
difficulties,  and  it  was  not  without  a  determined 
struggle  that  a  group  of  men  succeeded  in 
thwarting  certain  builders  and  architects  in 
their  efforts,  only  a  few  years  back,  to  destroy 
this  valuable  work  of  antiquity,  efforts  so  well 
commenced  by  their  fanatical  predecessors  dur- 
ing the  fourteenth  century,  who  had  left  no 
stone  unturned  to  wipe  from  off  the  face  of 
Paris  the  grand  productions  with  which  the 
so-called  Pagans  had  enriched  and  beautified 
the  place. 

This  magnificent  construction,  whose  walls 
are  several  yards  in  thickness,  this  amphi- 
theatre once  large  enough  to  hold  twenty  thou- 
sand spectators,  this  ponderous  monument 
anterior  to  the  Palace  of  the  Thermes  by  at 
least  a  century,  was  discovered  by  accident  and 
opened  up  again  to  the  light  of  heaven  after 
having  been  entombed  for  at  least  fifteen  hun- 


AN  ANCIENT  AMPHITHEATEE.  21 


dred  years !  An  examination  showed  that  the 
monument  liad  been  erected  during  a  period 
when  large  stones  were  solely  employed,  and 
there  were  none  of  those  bricks  in  it  which 
Roman  architects  adopted  later.  The  amphi- 
theatre stood  on  the  south  side  of  a  hill  where 
the  Romans  had  built  a  temple  and  a  palace, 
probably  during  the  reign  of  the  Emperor 
Adrian,  to  whom  we  also  owe  the  arena  at 
Nimes,  and  in  whose  time  the  Gaulish  renais- 
sance began. 

When  the  barbarians  invaded  France  and 
Paris,  this  amphitheatre  was  being  used  as  a 
large  quarry  from  whence  dressed  stones  were 
obtained  for  constructing  ramparts,  as  circus  steps 
have  been  found  in  the  ancient  walls  of  the  city. 

After  the  reign  of  Clovis,  all  things  bearing 
any  trace  of  Paganism,  or  of  the  Roman  dom- 
ination, were  condemned,  and  those  new  bar- 
barians called  Christians  destroyed  all  tombs, 
statues,  and  temples.  Thus  the  theatre  of  Mont 
Lucolitius,  dedicated  to  the  amorous  Cypris, 
was  laid  in  ruins;  its  seats  and  altars  were 
pillaged ;  and  in  the  museum  of  the  Hotel 
Carnavalet,  one  may  see  to-day  some  magnifi- 
cent fluted  columns  which  once  contributed  to 
the  ornamentation  of  a  structure  that  Christians 


28 


PARIS, 


rased  and  converted  into  a  cemetery.  The 
place  is  now  open,  and  quite  a  museum  of 
stones,  inscriptions,  rich  capitals,  bones  of  wild 
animals,  innumerable  medals,  etc.,  has  been 
located  on  the  spot.  There  is  much  work  of 
excavation  to  be  done  yet,  however. 


CHAPTER  II. 


The  first  walls  of  Paris — Appearance  of  a  valiant  shep- 
herdess— Under  the  reigns  of  Merovingians,  Pepins, 
and  Capetians — Norman  invasions  and  numerous 
sackings — Building  of  churches  and  monasteries — 
Birth  of  the  famous  Latin  Quarter — Certain 
periods  of  the  Middle  Ages. — Stout  walls  built 
and  streets  paved — An  immense  donjon  Keep — 
The  Arms  of  Paris. 

As  yet,  however,  Lutetia  was  only  a  small 
town,  a  provincial  town  at  that,  for  Lyons  was 
the  real  capital  of  early  Gaul.  Still  the  place 
had  its  forum,  a  curia,  and  other  public  squares 
and  houses,  including  one  for  law  purposes  that 
stood  precisely  where  the  Palais  de  Justice  now 
lifts  itself,  and  under  which,  when  it  was 
building,  ruins  of  the  ancient  Roman  structure 
were  unearthed.  There  was  also  a  triumphal 
arch,  a  temple  to  Mercury,  several  altars,  etc, 
near  the  law  courts,  while  upon  Mon  Martis, 
to  the  north  of  the  town,  stood  a  temple  to  the 
god  of  war.  But  after  four  or  five  centuries  of 
Latin  occupation,  the  people  from  the  South 


30 


PARIS. 


were  dispossessed,  the  town  took  on  its  name 
of  Paris,  and  presently  its  inhabitants  erected 
their  first  walls.  They  were  in  so  great  a  hurry 
to  do  this  that  they  would  not  take  time  to 
quarry  the  stones;  they  took  them  from  old 
edifices,  the  temples,  the  arch  of  triumph  and 
the  amphitheatre.  This  first  enclosure  followed 
closely  the  main  island,  the  faubourgs  being  left 
outside,  and  without  defense  save  for  some  pali- 
sades— some  of  the  debris  of  this  first  wall  was 
uncovered  in  quite  recent  years — and  the  popu- 
lation did  well  to  hurry  their  work  of  defense, 
for  the  land  was  quickly  invaded  from  every 
direction  by  barbarians.  Attila,  with  his 
terrible  Huns,  arrived  before  Paris,  and  the 
place  would  have  been  surrendered  to  him 
without  resistance,  but  for  the  courage  and  faith 
of  a  simple  shepherdess  from  a  neighbouring 
hamlet  now  known  as  Nanterre.  The  valiant 
Genevieve,  by  her  ardent  exhortations,  raised 
up  the  drooping  courage  of  the  inhabitants,  and 
impelled  them  to  man  their  walls.  Whether 
this  brave  conduct  on  their  part  frightened 
Attila  no  one  can  say ;  but  certainly  he  did  not 
attack  Paris,  and  went  elsewhere  on  his  march 
of  ruin  and  conquest. 

The  Lutetia  of  Rome  had  been  swallowed 


EEGIME  OF  THE  MEROVINGIANS.  31 


up  by  the  Paris  of  the  Francs,  and  the  Chlodwig 
family  were  now  in  office.  Among  the  many 
valuable  souvenirs  in  the  Bibliotheque  Nation- 
ale  (National  Library),  one  can  see  to-day  a 
bath  of  red  marble  in  which  Chlodwig1  was 
baptised.  The  church  was  hoping  undoubtedly 
to  civilise  the  barbarians,  but  it  was  the  con- 
trary that  occurred. 

During  the  long  regime  of  the  Merovingian 
kings,  when  everything  changed,  and  Paris 
became  the  capital,  we  find  nothing  noteworthy 
as  regards  the  city  itself  except  two  remarkable 
facts :  increase  of  the  faubourgs,  and  the 
foundation  of  many  churches.  But  as  for  the 
kings  and  queens,  they  would  not  reside  at 
Paris.  When  the  sovereign  visited  his  capital 
he  lived  in  the  Roman  Palace  of  the  Cite,  that 
is  to  say,  in  the  Palais  de  Justice ;  while  the 
queen  or  her  relatives  occupied  the  Palais  des 
Thermes.  On  his  return  from  a  victorious 
expedition  to  the  south,  Chlodwig  founded  that 
Basilica  of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul  which  later 
on  became  the  celebrated  Abbey  of  Sainte 
Genevieve. 

The  first  cathedral  of  Paris  was  founded  by 

1  Chlodwig  :  or,  more  exact,  Hlodwig,  a  name  which 
in  time  became  Clovis,  Loys,  Louis. 


32 


PAEIS. 


the  bloody  hands  of  Childebert,  the  murderer 
of  children,  and  it  was  built  on  the  sacred 
ground  of  all  the  centuries,  and  all  the  reli- 
gions which  had  been  known  by  Lutetia  and  by 
Paris  up  to  that  period. 

That  same  king  erected  the  basilica  of  St. 
Vincent  and  St.  Croix,  which  soon  became  the 
proud  and  opulent  Abbey  of  St  Germain-des 
Pres,  and  to  enrich  which  the  u  pious  king," 
dearly  beloved  by  his  bishops,  pillaged  the 
churches  of  ancient  Spain.  It  was  so  rich  in 
gold  and  marble  that  it  was  known  as  the 
"  Palais  dore  de  l'Eveque  Germain."  But  of 
all  that  large  and  magnificent  structure  nothing 
remains  save  the  foundations  of  the  tower  near 
the  entrance  to  the  church  now  standing  there. 

On  the  He  de  la  Cite,  when  Dagobert  was 
king,  there  were  five  or  six  churches ;  while  in 
the  faubourgs  were  perhaps  a  dozen  more,  not 
counting  the  abbeys.  One  of  these  outside 
churches  was  the  basilica  of  St.  Germain,  after- 
wards named  St.  Germain  l'Auxerrois.  It 
stands  near  the  Louvre,  and  we  shall  find  it  again 
when  we  come  to  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholo- 
mew. 

In  the  work  of  embellishing  these  places  of 
worship,  Dagobert  was  aided  materially  by 


UNDER  THE  PEPINS. 


33 


Eloi,  a  famous  goldsmith  whom  the  king  made 
bishop  because  of  his  good  works — as  an  orjevre, 
of  course.  There  is  a  cross  of  gold  that  is 
delicately  enamelled,  also  a  chair  in  bronze 
dor6,  in  the  Museum  of  the  Louvre  which  are 
attributed  to  Eloi. 

The  Pepin  family,  whom  the  bishops  and 
popes,  substituted  for  the  Merovingians,  were 
all  devoted  to  the  church  except  Charles  Mar- 
tel.  It  was  the  church  that  made  the  fortune 
of  this  family  by  proclaiming  Pepin  king  and 
Charlemagne  emperor.  To  both  of  these  Paris 
counted  for  next  to  nothing  ;  indeed  the  great 
emperor  hardly  deigned  to  pay  his  new  city  a 
single  visit.  When  he  was  not  battling  under  the 
blue  sky  of  Spain,  or  in  the  warm  plains  of  Italy, 
or  a  midst  the  chilly  forests  of  the  Saxons,  he 
resided  at  Aix-la-Chapelle,  which  town  he  en- 
riched and  made  his  capital.  After  him  came 
other  Charleses,  emperors  also,  who  ill-treated 
Paris  and  forgot  the  Seine.  An  invasion  by  the 
Normans  followed ;  they  came  seven  different 
times,  each  time  more  numerous  and  more  deter- 
mined to  destroy.  They  sacked  Eouen,  Nantes, 
Bordeaux,  Toulouse,  Orleans,  Beauvais,  a  hun- 
dred other  places — Paris  three  times  in  succession 
— while  Charles  the  Fat  was  king. 


34 


PARIS, 


The  first  time  that  the  terrible  Northmen 
ascended  the  Seine  in  boats  there  were  perhaps 
no  more  than  four  thousand  of  them,  all  told. 
Nothing  was  ready  at  Paris  in  the  way  of 
resistance,  and  the  old  walls  had  been  sadly 
neglected.  On  the  approach  of  the  "  brigands  " 
the  priests  and  monks  fled,  bearing  away  the 
relics  of  St.  Germain  and  St.  Genevieve,  while 
as  for  the  inhabitants,  so  dismayed  they  never 
thought  of  making  any  defense,  they  also 
rushed  to  hide  in  the  woods  or  in  distant 
streams.  The  invaders  sacked  and  burned,  and 
meanwhile  King  Charles  and  his  army  did 
nothing  whatever  to  save  the  land.  Eleven 
years  later  the  same  thing  again  occurred — in- 
vasion, panic,  pillage.  On  the  first  occasion  the 
Abbey  of  St.  Genevieve  was  only  robbed,  now 
it  was  burned  and  hurled  down.  All  the 
country  round  about  Paris  was  devastated,  the 
crops  were  destroyed,  and  many  persons  killed. 

Thus  far  the  rich  Abbey  of  Saint  Denis  had 
escaped,  but  when  the  Normans  paid  their  third 
visit  to  Paris,  it,  too,  was  sacked.  This  time 
there  were  thirty  thousand  of  the  enemy,  and 
as  the  capital  refused  to  open  its  gates,  they 
swore  to  take  and  burn  the  place.  The  defense 
was  simply  heroic,  for  now  the  Parisians  were  led 


THE  TERRIBLE  NORTHMEN.  35 


by  the  valiant  Gozlin,  a  monk  from  the  Abbey 
of  Saint  Germain-des-Pres ;  by  his  nephew 
Ebbes,  who  was  also  a  priest ;  by  Eudes,  the 
Count  of  Paris,  son  of  Robert-le-Fort ;  and  by 
Elides'  brother  Robert.  These  four  men  con- 
ducted the  defense,  and  prodigies  of  valour 
occurred. 

Finally,  the  Normans  promised  to  touch  noth- 
ing, neither  people  nor  property,  if  permitted 
only  to  march  through  the  town,  but  the 
Parisians  refused  to  consent  to  this.  The  city 
devoted  herself  to  the  country,  she  fought  for 
France,  and  she  paid  nobly  for  her  title  of 
capital.  The  enemy  was  led  by  Sigfrid,  a  re- 
doubtable warrior,  who,  at  the  head  of  his 
enraged  bands,  assailed  from  land  and  water  the 
tower  which  protected  the  bridge  across  the 
Seine  known  as  the  Grand-Poiit.  Body  to 
body,  sword  to  sword,  axe  to  axe,  dirk  to  dirk, 
assailants  and  defenders  fought  to  the  death. 
Cut  to  pieces,  the  enemy  were  thrown  into  the 
stream,  but  hardly  had  they  disappeared  when 
other  men  took  their  places.  Thus  the  day 
passed  in  and  around  one  single  tower.  Three 
times,  yes  four,  the  Normans  returned  furiously 
to  the  assault,  employing  every  machine  of  war 
that  they  knew  anything  about,  but  all  in  vain, 


36 


PAKIS. 


and  the  enemy  was  on  the  point  of  falling  back 
when  King  Charles  the  Fat,  who  was  far  away 
from  the  scene  of  strife,  yielded  to  the  invaders 
and  promised  they  should  pass  through  Paris. 

These  invasions  by  the  Normans  continued 
for  a  quarter  of  a  century  longer ;  and  Paris 
had  still  once  more  to  resist  the  attacks  of  the 
terrible  Rollon,  the  great  founder  of  Norman 
power,  who  had  already  captured  Rouen  and 
all  the  lower  Seine  country  by  the  sword.  It 
was  then  that  Charles  the  Simple  devised  a  way 
of  stopping  the  Normans  from  destroying  all 
the  fields  and  burning  all  the  towns  of  France. 
He  gave  everything  and  every  place  they 
wanted  to  the  invaders,  and  thus  Normandy 
was  created. 

The  degenerate  race  of  Charlemagne  had 
finished  by  losing  the  throne,  so  to  speak,  and 
in  their  stead  arose  the  families  of  the  glorious 
defenders  of  the  capital;  that  of  the  son  of 
Robert  le  Fort,  and  that  of  Eudes.  For  the 
second  time,  the  Church  had  put  men  of  its  own 
choice  on  the  throne  of  France. 

Hugues  was  a  rich  and  powerful  lord,  but 
he  was  also  a  great  abbot,  for  he  was  at  the 
head  of  five  or  six  splendid  abbeys.  He  wore 
the  chape  (cope)  and  this  gave  him  the  name  of 


REBUILDING  THE  CIT£. 


37 


Capet  or  Chapet,  that  is  to  say  chape.  So 
France  came  under  the  dominion  of  the  first 
Capetians,  and  with  them  Paris  again  became 
the  capital;  but  it  raised  itself  with  much 
difficulty  from  out  the  ruins  which  had  been  put 
on  or  about  it  by  the  Norman  gangs.  Outside 
the  walls  of  the  Cite  everything  had  been 
devastated  or  rased.  The  Palais  des  Thermes 
was  half  demolished,  while  away  from  the 
walls  both  sides  of  the  river  were  as  a  desert 
place. 

Little  by  little,  however,  the  faubourgs  were 
repeopled,  houses  were  rebuilt,  the  Palais  de  la 
Cite,  which  had  been  badly  damaged  in  the 
later  wars,  was  repaired,  and  the  king  erected 
a  fortified  royal  residence  on  a  hill  to  the  south 
of  the  town,  known  as  the  Chateau  de  Vauvert. 

But  the  edifices  which  were  rebuilt  the  soon- 
est and  in  largest  numbers  were  churches  and 
monasteries.  Within  a  century  the  wealth  of 
the  monks,  already  enormous,  doubled  in  value 
and  this,  too,  at  a  time  of  great  public  distress. 
There  were  several  causes  for  this,  but  they 
hardly  need  to  be  mentioned  here,  except  in  the 
case  of  the  supposed  millenium,  that  is  to  say, 
the  arrival  of  the  one  thousandth  year  of  the 
Christian  Era.    In  the  gloomy  naves  of  their 


38 


PARIS. 


churches  and  cathedrals,  lusty  monks  as  they 
lugubriously  preached  penitence,  had  been  an- 
nouncing the  Last  Judgment  as  close  at  hand. 
They  themselves  were  frightened  almost  to 
death,  and  all  the  world,  in  country  as  well  as 
in  town,  was  listening  for  the  trumpet  sound. 
Believing  that  the  end  was  near,  men  gave 
their  lands  and  wealth  to  God;  that  is,  to  the 
churches,  to  the  monks  and  bishops,  this  to 
save  their  souls.  The  year  A.  D.  1000, 
passed,  the  last  trumpet  did  not  sound,  but 
the  lands  and  wealth  remained  with  the  monks. 
This  is  why,  when  Paris  was  so  badly  off  and 
her  faubourgs  had  suffered  so  much,  churches 
were  erected  which  were  larger  and  finer  than 
ever  before. 

There  are  plenty  of  churches  now  in  Paris, 
and  many  are  standing  on  the  same  foundations 
of  those  ancient  days ;  but  they  have  been  so 
often  repaired,  enlarged,  or  reconstructed,  in  part 
or  total,  that  not  one  is  the  same  as  it  was  in 
the  beginning  of  its  age.  The  fragment  the 
most  complete  now  in  existence  is  the  choir  of 
the  church  of  Saint  Martin  des  Champs.  This 
church  is  attached  to  the  Paris  Conservatoire 
des  Arts  et  Metiers,  and  we  shall  visit  it  by- 
and-by. 


BIETH  OP  THE  LATIN  QUARTER.  39 


The  two  great  events  of  tlie  eleventh,  twelfth, 
and  thirteenth  centuries  both  occurred  outside 
of  Paris.  These  were  the  crusades  and  the 
communes.  Every  city  except  the  capital, 
almost  every  town  had  its  communes,  but  Paris 
bided  its  hour,  struggling  meanwhile  against 
the  abbots  and  the  bishops. 

A  third  great  event  was  the  appearance  of 
Abailard  on  the  scene.  It  is  true  he  was 
imprisoned  in  a  convent,  and  his  books  were 
burned ;  but  there  still  remained  something  of 
the  prodigious  movement  which  Abailard's 
presence  had  started  years  before.  A  certain 
curiosity  to  study,  to  know,  a  taste  for  thinking 
and  for  discussion,  had  been  created,  and  schools 
were  established  everywhere.  There  were 
schools  before  Abailard's  day,  but  they  were 
few  in  number,  and  while  he  lived  at  Paris  so 
many  sought  instruction  that  it  was  found 
necessary  to  build  houses  in  which  to  lodge 
them.  Naturally,  schools  and  colleges  became 
plentiful  in  this  village  of  students,  and  to  it, 
from  all  over  France,  as  well  as  from  foreign 
countries,  strangers  came  as  pupils.  "With  these 
also  came  copyists,  librarians,  writers  on  parch- 
ments; in  brief,  an  entire  population  who 
depended  on  the  schools  for  existence.  The 


40 


PARIS. 


village  became  a  quarter  of  the  capital,  a  noisy, 
turbulent,  singular  kind  of  quarter  whose 
inhabitants  ate  but  little,  drank  a  great  deal, 
and  spoke  Latin.  And  so  it  happened  that  the 
famous  Quartier  Latin  sprang  into  existence. 
The  town  that  Abailard  was  in  part  responsible 
for  is  still  in  Paris,  while  the  tomb  of  himself 
and  of  his  dear  Heloise  stands  in  the  cemetery 
of  Pere  la  Chaise,  where  it  is  eternally  covered 
with  wreaths  and  flowers  by  those  who  still 
believe  in  love. 

Little  by  little  Paris  grew  in  extent  and 
population,  but  meanwhile  the  bishops  and  the 
abbots  remained  absolute  masters  of  the  place. 
The  bourgs  multiplied,  the  city  reached  out  to 
some  of  them,  and  they  became  quartier s. 

Louis  VI,  always  at  war,  and  especially  with 
his  noblemen,  determined  to  bring  all  these 
faubourgs  within  Paris,  and  so  a  new  wall  was 
built.  It  was  fortified  with  towers,  the  Cite 
ends  of  the  two  principal  bridges  being  defended 
by  chatelets  built  of  stone.  One  was  called 
the  Grand  CMtelet,  the  other  the  Petit  Chatelet  ; 
in  the  long  run  both  were  demolished  because 
they  obstructed  the  passage  of  men  and  vehicles. 
The  Place  du  Chatelet,  whereon  two  large 
theatres  now  front,  is  the  spot  where  the  Grand 


WALLS  BUILT  AND  STREETS  PAVED.  41 


Chatelet  stood  until  1802.  It  is  not  within 
the  scope  of  this  work  to  describe  these  walls, 
their  gates,  and  their  towers,  and  indeed  it 
would  be  difficult  to  do  so,  for  their  situation, 
at  certain  points  is  still  in  doubt.  What  is 
certain,  however,  is  that  they  were  so  insufficient 
that  in  less  than  a  century  they  had  to  be  re- 
placed by  another  enclosure  of  ramparts,  larger 
and  finer,  and  this  one  was  built  by  Philippe 
Augustus.  Now  of  the  grand  periods  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  perhaps  the  most  remarkable 
were  during  his  reign  and  that  of  Louis  IX,  as 
they  were  also  epochs  of  most  importance  in  the 
history  of  Paris  during  the  same  time,  for  the 
Louvre,  paved  streets,  market-houses,  the  Uni- 
versity, the  Cathedral,  and  a  coat-of-arms  were 
then  given  to  the  capital. 

One  day  King  Philippe  Augustus,  while  in 
his  Palais  de  la  Cite,  saw  a  heavily  loaded  cart 
passing  before  his  front  door.  The  mud  was 
so  deep  and  the  water  so  stagnant,  that  the 
wheels  and  horses  stirred  up  such  a  stench  his 
majesty  was  obliged  to  quit  the  room.  As  he 
knew  that  a  similar  disgusting  state  of  affairs 
existed  in  the  other  streets  of  Paris,  and  as  the 
old  Eoman  pavement  was  no  longer  in  existence 
anywhere,  he  gave  orders  to  have  all  the  rues 


42 


PARIS. 


paved,  and  the  work  was  begun  at  once.  But 
it  progressed  so  slowly  from  century  to  century 
that  when  Louis  XIII  came  to  the  throne,  half 
the  streets  in  the  city  were  still  unpaved. 
However,  while  thinking  of  his  capital,  Phil- 
ippe Augustus  was  also  thinking  of  himself, 
and  so  he  repaired  a  chateau  with  high  walls, 
a  few  narrow  windows,  ditches,  towers,  and 
an  immense  donjon ;  it  was  more  of  a  fortress 
than  it  was  a  residence,  and  it  was  the  original 
Louvre.  Impenetrable  to  all  Parisians,  it  also 
proved  itself  impenetrable  to  the  English,  and 
though  outside  the  city  was  nevertheless  the 
citadel  of  that  city. 

To-day,  in  the  smaller  courtyard  of  the 
Louvre,  one  can  see  white  lines  traced  on  the 
paving-stones  which  mark  the  situation  and  size 
of  that  old  Louvre  of  Philippe  Augustus.  The 
walls  of  its  donjon  tower  were  seventeen  feet 
thick,  while  the  base  of  it  was  sixty  feet  in 
diameter.  It  was  intended  as  a  refuge  in 
case  of  danger,  and  therein  the  king  stored  his 
treasure,  his  jewels,  his  parchments,  etc.  It 
was  therein  he  received  his  grand  vassals,  when 
they  came  to  render  him  homage  and  renew 
their  oaths  of  loyalty ;  and  it  was  there  that  he 
sometimes  lodged  them,  in  a  way  not  altogether 


THE  RESIDENCES  OP  THE  KINGS.  43 


to  their  liking,  when  they  failed  to  please  his 
majesty.  Not  far  from  the  Louvre  the  king 
had  his  country  house,  stoutly  fortified  and  sur- 
rounded by  a  fine  garden.  It  was  called  the 
Chateau  du  Bois,  and  it  stood  on  the  grounds 
now  occupied  by  the  Palais  Royal  and  the 
Theatre  Prangais.  The  mansion  of  the  Dukes 
of  Brittany,  with  its  towers,  was  on  the  banks 
of  the  river  near  by. 

But  the  usual  residence  of  the  kings  of 
France  when  at  Paris  had  been  from  time  im- 
memorial the  Palais  de  Justice,  and  it  remained 
the  seat  and  sign  of  royal  sovereignty,  even  as 
the  Louvre  had  become  the  seat  of  their  feudal 
suzerainty.  It  was  in  the  Palais  and  not  at  the 
Louvre  that  fetes  were  given,  and  where  all 
foreign  princes  were  received ;  but  that  palace, 
and  adjoining  Conciergerie,  will  be  dealt  with  in 
another  chapter. 

At  that  same  period,  but  in  another  part  of 
town,  a  much  larger  fortress  than  the  Louvre 
was  built,  the  Chateau  of  the  Templars.  The 
Temple  included,  besides  its  church,  large  and 
splendid  quarters  for  many  knights,  habitations 
for  servants,  workmen,  etc.  The  Templars 
owned  all  the  land  round  about,  and  their  do- 
main within  the  capital  was  so  vast  that  it 


44 


PARIS. 


took  up  at  least  one-third  of  the  then  existing 
Paris.  Moreover,  they  owned  a  large  chateau 
on  the  other  side  of  the  river/  wherein  the 
commander  of  their  order  lived ;  and  the  tower 
of  this  chateau  of  the  commander  stood  until 
1855,  when  it  was  pulled  down. 

The  armoiries  of  the  city  of  Paris  date  from 
the  time  of  Philippe  Augustus.  Following  the 
formula  of  heraldry,  the  arms  of  Paris  carry : 
des  gueules  a  la  nef  frettee,  habillee  d'argent, 
flottanty  sur  des  ondes  de  mfone,  au  chef  cousu 
de  France  ancien.  Translated,  this  means  that 
on  a  red  background  is  a  rigged  vessel  with 
silver  sails  and  floating  on  waves  of  the  same 
colour,  while  above  is  a  band  of  azure  sprinkled 
with  golden  fleurs  de  lys — the  arms  of  the 
kings  of  France.  But  the  device  or  motto  was 
not  added  until  the  sixteenth  century.  The 
idea  was  and  is  that  these  arms  represent  Paris 
itself  in  its  historical  origin,  the  He  de  la  Cite 
by  its  shape  suggesting  a  bark,  stranded  or 
anchored  in  the  stream.  Some  people  are 
pleased  to  see  in  this  floating  ship  a  symbol  of 
the  destinies  of  the  great  city,  a  very  agitated 
destiny,  a  vessel  rudely  treated  by  many  tem- 

Must  in  front  of  the  actual  College  of  France. 


THE  MOTTO  OF  THE  CAPITAL. 


45 


pests.  Fluctuate  nec  mergitur — tossed  about, 
but  never  engulfed — that  is  the  motto  of  Paris. 
Truly  it  is  a  fine  device,  and  may  she  never 
sink. 


CHAPTER  III. 


Cruelty  of  Merovingian  monarchs — A  palace  rich  in 
great  souvenirs  —  It  is  now  the  principal  court 
house — A  famous  Marble  Table — Hall  of  pride 
and  luxury — Hawthorn  planting  in  the  month 
of  May — The  rough  and  unpolished  Conciergerie 
— Those  imprisoned  in  it  in  olden  and  modern 
times — A  long  trail  of  blood  and  misery — The  cell 
of  Marie  Antoinette  and  others. 

The  period  of  the  Dark  Ages  was  prior  to 
the  reign  and  death  of  Charlemagne.  It  is  cus- 
tomary to  locate  these  ages  in  the  time  of  the 
Merovingian  kings,  or  from  about  561  to  748,  a 
period  of  nearly  two  centuries.  "  It  was  a  time 
when  there  were  no  schools  for  the  laity,  no 
books  for  them,  no  elevating  instruction  of  any 
kind,"  is  the  usual  way  of  expressing  it.  Pro- 
fessor Edgar  Sanderson  says  that  the  first  half 
of  the  mediaeval  period  has  been  known  as  the 
Dark  Ages,  but  this,  he  observes,  is  somewhat 
of  a  misnomer,  for  "  the  light  of  learning  was 
never   wholly   extinguished."    Certainly  the 


THE  REAL  CAPITOL  OF  PARIS. 


47 


founding  of  churches  was  a  great  fact  m  the 
history  of  Paris  during  those  "dark"  days; 
while  the  preservation  of  the  colleges,  and  the 
support  of  the  Masters  and  Doctors,  as  the 
teachers  were  called,  shows  the  existence  of  an 
intellectual  aristocracy  during  the  reigns  of  the 
"  long-haired  "  kings. 

The  history  of  Paris  shows  further  that  these 
Merovingian  chiefs,  quite  as  cruel  as  were  mon- 
archs  long  after  their  time,  resided  in  the  town 
at  frequent  intervals,  living  generally  in  the 
Roman  palace  of  the  Cite.  In  that  palace  oc- 
curred the  very  atrocious  crime  of  Childebert 
and  Chlotaire — both  of  them  Kings  of  Paris 
at  the  same  time — who  assassinated  the  two 
sons  of  their  own  brother  who  had  been  sent 
to  them  by  the  boys'  grandmother.  After 
that  Childebert  went  to  live  with  his  wife, 
Queen  Ultrogothe,  at  the  Palais  des  Thermes ; 
the  ancient  Roman  gardens  were  full  of  apple 
and  pear  trees  and  flower  beds,  and  in  them 
was  shown  to  subsequent  generations  the 
alley  by  which  the  "  pious  king "  went  from 
the  palace  to  the  basilica  that  he  had  founded, 
actually  Saint  Germain  des  Pres.  It  was 
this  Palace  of  the  Cite  that  became  known 
afterwards  as  the  Palais  de  Justice,  and  it,  in- 


48 


PAEIS. 


stead  of  the  Louvre,  is  the  real  Capitol  of 
France.  It  is  the  oldest  and  most  curious  monu- 
ment of  the  Cite,  as  it  certainly  is  the  richest 
in  great  souvenirs.  Count  Eudes  occupied  it 
when  he  held  the  Normans  in  check,  but  it  was 
a  fortress  then.  Robert  the  Pious,  son  of  Hugue 
Capet,  turned  it  into  a  chateau,  and  St.  Louis 
into  a  palace,  which  Philippe  le  Bel  enlarged 
and  Louis  XII  restored.  Its  old  stones  have 
seen  many  strange  things,  from  the  Francic 
battle-axes  of  the  long-haired  kings,  to  the  sword 
of  Francois  Premier ;  from  the  feathered  plumes 
of  Henri  IV,  to  the  spurs  of  Louis  XIV,  or  to 
the  eagles  of  Napoleon.  Louis  le  Gros  departed 
this  life  within  its  walls,  there  Philippe  Augus- 
tus was  married,  and  it  was  thence  Louis  IX 
sent  forth  that  Pragmatique  sanction  which  was 
the  first  claim  of  the  liberties  of  the  Gallican 
church.  Official  residence  for  the  kings  of  the 
first  and  second  race,  it  was  only  abandoned 
as  such  when  the  Hotel  St.  Paul  and  the  Louvre 
were  constructed.  Even  then  it  remained  the 
theatre  and  the  centre  of  all  great  events  and 
political  manifestations.  Then,  after  having 
been  the  sojourn  of  the  most  ancient  sovereigns 
of  France,  the  cradle  and  the  rampart  of  Paris, 
the  Palais  de  Justice  was  still  the  witness,  the 


THE  PRESENT  PALAIS  DE  JUSTICE.  49 


arena  of  national  struggles  between  the  people 
and  their  rulers. 

The  Cour  d'Honneur  of  the  present  Palais 
de  Justice  is  separated  from  the  Boulevard  du 
Palais  by  a  high  iron-barred  fence,  with  enor- 
mous gates  which  are  marvels  of  handwork. 
Seen  from  this  grille,  the  Law  Courts  appear 
heavy,  too  massive  perhaps,  and  yet  the  ensem- 
ble is  imposing.  The  front,  constructed  after 
the  fire  of  January,  1776,  has  quite  a  fine  ap- 
pearance. Going  up  the  steps,  we  enter  first  of 
all  into  the  Salle  des  Pas-Perdus,  or  66  hall  of 
lost  footsteps" — an  outer  room  that  would  be 
called  an  antechamber  elsewhere.  On  days 
when  cases  are  being  heard  in  the  different 
tribunals  the  huissiers  cry  out  to  the  spec- 
tators present  when  the  judges  enter,  "The 
Court,  gentlemen:  hats  off!"  They  might 
properly  shout  at  us  as  we  enter  the  Salle  des 
Pas-Perdus:  "  Hats  off,  gentlemen:  This  is 
History!  " 

Damaged  but  slightly  by  the  fire  of  1776, 
the  vast  hall  is  nearly  the  same  as  it  was  when 
reconstructed  after  the  memorable  fire  of  1617; 
and  when  a  great  part  of  the  original  hall  was 
preserved  and  made  use  of  by  the  builders.  It 
is  210  feet  long  by  95  feet  wide,  with  a  very 


50 


PARIS. 


high  ceiling  arched  and  beamed,  and  it  opens 
into  the  civil  and  criminal  chamber  of  the 
Court  of  Cassation,  and  to  some  other  court 
rooms.  Near  the  end  of  this  grand  hall  is  the 
site  of  the  celebrated  Marble  Table. 

What  this  immense  antechamber  is  to-day 
may  be  easily  imagined  by  those  who  have 
aught  to  do  with  Law  Courts  or  Halls  of 
Justice ;  what  it  was  in  the  long  ago  is  quite  a 
different  thing,  and  is  well  worth  telling  here. 
In  this  hall,  as  it  was  then,  French  kings  re- 
ceived the  hommages  of  their  vassals,  and 
solemnised  their  coming  to  power,  their  mar- 
riages, etc. 

It  was  around  the  Marble  Table  that  the 
wedding  of  Catherine  of  France,  daughter  of 
Charles  VI,  with  Henry  V,  King  of  England, 
was  celebrated.  It  was  at  that  table  that 
another  English  King,  Edward  II,  sat,  as  son- 
in-law  and  vassal,  before  Philippe  le  Bel.  It 
was  also  there,  and  in  the  midst  of  eight  hun- 
dred knights,  that  the  Emperor  Charles  IV, 
and  his  son  Venceslas  (called  the  "  Drunken 
King  of  Bohemia,  were  guests  at  a  splendid 
feast,  after  which  there  was  a  most  remarkable 
performance  of  a  piece  called  the  "  Taking  of 
Jerusalem  by  the  Crusaders.7'    In  this  show  a 


THE  HISTORIC  MAEBLE  TABLE. 


51 


large  vessel,  full  rigged  and  with  crew,  moved 
down  the  great  hall  carrying  off  Godefroy 
le  Bouillon's  gallant  knights.  Moreover  it  was 
on  that  same  Marble  Table  that,  and  after  the 
u  Mysteries  of  the  Passion,"  the  clercs  of  the 
Basoche  played  their  farces,  moralites,  and 
sottises,  the  Aristophanestic  license  of  which 
spared  no  one  from  bitter  sarcasm.  That  table, 
in  turn  a  table  of  feasting,  of  throne,  and  of 
theatre,  was  also  a  tribunal ;  because,  by  one  of 
those  contrasts  so  pleasing  in  the  Middle  Ages, 
it  was  there  that  the  jurisdiction  of  the  con- 
netablie  and  that  of  the  admiralty  held  their 
audiences  on  those  days  when  the  Basoche  was 
not  in  session. 

Finally,  it  was  in  this  great  hall,  during  the 
captivity  of  King  John,  that  Prevot  Marcel  had 
the  throats  cut  of  Robert  le  Clermont  and  Jean 
de  Conflans,  this  under  the  very  eyes  of  the 
Dauphin,  who  was  so  horrified  by  the  incident 
that  he  hated  the  Palais  de  Justice,  and  hur- 
ried to  build  the  Hotel  St.  Paul  for  his  future 
residence. 

Its  vaulted  ceilings  harboured  many  tumults, 
cabals,  or  seditions  by  the  Ligue  and  Fronde. 
In  the  time  of  Mazarin  all  councillors,  when 
they  went  to  the  Palais  de  Justice,  carried 


52 


PAKIS. 


poignards  under  their  robes,  and,  wishing  to 
be  a  la  mode,  Cardinal  de  Retz,  hid  one  under 
his  surplice,  whereupon  the  wits  referred  to  it 
as  the  breviaire  de  notre  archeveque.  This, 
however,  did  not  save  him,  at  the  moment  he 
was  trying  to  force  his  way  into  the  Grand 
Chambre,  from  having  his  head  caught  by  the 
neck  between  two  folding  doors,  and  where  he 
came  near  being  strangled  by  order  of  his 
enemy,  the  Duke  de  La  Rochefoucauld. 

This  Grand  Chambre  is  to-day  the  civil  and 
criminal  chamber  of  the  Court  of  Cassation. 
Royal  chamber  under  St.  Louis,  who  con- 
structed it  and  occupied  it,  it  became  later  on, 
the  great  chamber  of  Parliament.  In  vain 
have  the  authorities  striven  from  time  to  time  to 
change  its  character,  it  has  always  retained  the 
air  and  appearance  of  other  days.  It  was  long 
the  pride  and  luxury  of  kings.  Louis  XII, 
who  was  fond  of  conducting  those  foreign 
princes  who  were  his  guests,  to  this  chamber, 
that  they  might  have  evidence  of  his  good 
justice,  had  it  gilded  with  the  gold  of  ducats 
which  came  to  him  from  Holland. 

The  French  Revolution  made  the  chamber 
first  its  Tribunal  de  Cassation,  and  next  its 
Tribunal  Revolutionnaire.    Then  these  same 


COUR  CASSISES  AND  GBAND*  SALLE.  53 


vaulted  ceilings  which  had  seen  so  many  for- 
eign inonarchs,  from  Emperor  Sigismond  to 
Peter  the  Great,  which  had  looked  down  on 
French  kings  from  St.  Louis  to  Henri  IV, — 
these  vaultings  saw  a  Queen  of  France  con- 
demned to  death.  They  heard  the  agonising 
accents  of  the  Girondins,  the  virile  words  of 
Charlotte  Corday  and  Madame  Roland,  the 
sobs  of  the  Du  Barry. 

From  the  Salle  des  Pas-Perdus  we  may  also 
go  into  a  now  empty  gallery  still  called  Galerie 
des  Merciers,  and  which  was  long  the  favour- 
ite rendezvous  and  promenade  of  Parisians. 
Another  gallery  is  the  Galerie  de  Saint  Louis ; 
it  is  one  of  the  parts  the  best  preserved  of  the 
old  Palais,  and  is  a  specimen  in  miniature  of 
the  transplendent  colourings  of  the  ancient 
Grand'Salle. 

Quitting  this  latter  gallery,  one  finds  him- 
self in  front  of  the  Cour  d' Assises,  the  largest 
court  room  in  the  Palace  of  Justice.  Philippe 
le  Bel  added  a  high  tower  and  belfry  to 
the  structure,  after  it  had  been  once  or  twice 
enlarged  and  strengthened.  He  also  con- 
structed the  immense  and  magnificent  Grand' 
Salle  with  its  nine  naves,  and  intended  for 
double  use — a  hall  of  justice  and  a  hall  of  fes- 


54 


PARIS. 


tivals — as  well  as  the  splendid  kitchens1  with 
high  vaults  and  large  fireplaces. 

Between  the  Grand  Salle  and  the  Sainte 
Chapelle  were  galleries,  to  which  a  triumphal 
flight  of  steps  gave  access.  The  great  court  of 
honour  was  also  called  the  Cour  du  Mai,  be- 
cause the  clercs  of  the  Basoche,  that  is  to  say, 
the  youngest  of  the  advocates  and  judges,  used 
to  go  there  on  the  last  Saturday  in  the  month 
of  May,  and  plant  a  hawthorn. 

Some  curious  stories  could  be  told  of  those 
clercs  and  their  jurisdiction.  Once  they  as- 
sembled to  the  number  of  ten  thousand  suppdts 
or  "  subjects,"  at  the  obsequies  of  a  "  King  of 
the  Basoche."  The  real  King  was  terribly 
frightened  by  this  demonstration  over  le  roi 
mort,  and  later  on  Henri  III  suppressed  the 
mimic  title  completely,  declaring  that  France 
should  have  no  other  king  than  himself. 

Such  was  the  brilliant,  gilded  side  of  the 
Palais  de  la  Cite,  but  there  was  another  side 
to  it  under  the  rough  and  unpolished  Con- 
ciergerie,  or  principal  entrance  to  the  palace, 
and  which  was  defended  by  two  towers  wherein 

1  Erroneously  called  Cuisines  de  Saint  Louis  in  Paris 
Guide  books,  or  by  those  who  show  tourists  through 
the  Conciergerie. 


THE  CONCIERGEKIE  PRISON.  55 


cachots  or  dungeons  were  dug  wliicli  were 
without  daylight  and  almost  wholly  without 
air,  so  that  life  in  them  was  quite  impossible. 
Under  another  tower — it  is  still  standing  and 
in  daily  use — were  oubliettes  into  which  were 
thrown  those  whom  the  authorities  wanted  to 
murder  in  secret.  In  them  were  blades  and 
sharpened  rocks,  which  hewed  and  hacked  the 
victims  as  they  fell,  and  the  human  remains 
were  slid  off  into  the  River  Seine  through  trap 
doors. 

The  Conciergerie  is  certainly  one  of  the  most 
interesting  places  in  Paris  from  the  historical 
point  of  view.  It  would  be  almost  possible  to 
reconstitute  a  part  of  the  story  of  the  capital, 
with  nothing  more  than  the  archives  of  that 
old  prison,  the  most  ancient  in  Paris,  wherein 
so  many  celebrated  personages  have  been  con- 
fined. Take  only  the  list  of  those  who  were 
imprisoned  therein  during  the  Revolutionary 
period,  and  one  finds  nearly  all  the  great 
figures  of  that  time.  Under  the  Consulate — 
Ceracchi,  Arenu,  Topino  le  Brun,  and  Ca- 
doudal,  accused  of  conspiring  against  the  life 
of  Bonaparte,  were  "  detained  "  at  the  Con- 
ciergerie. Under  the  Empire — General  Mallet 
and  his  accomplices  were  taken  there.  After 


56 


PARIS. 


the  "  One  Hundred  Days,"  the  old  prison  re- 
ceived Lab^doyere,  Ney,  and  La  Valette.  In 
1820  the  cell  of  Marshal  Ney  was  occupied 
by  Louvet ;  and  the  four  sergeants  of  La 
Rochelle  were  imprisoned  there  in  1821.  A 
celebrated  banker  named  Ouvrard  was  also 
one  of  the  guests  of  that  gloomy  residence. 
He  obtained  permission  to  place  a  sort  of  gar- 
den in  hanging  boxes  under  the  windows  of 
his  apartment  and  thus  concealed  the  iron  bars 
with  plants  and  flowers.  Under  the  Monarchy 
of  July,  Fieschi,  who  tried  to  kill  Louis  Phil- 
ippe, was  imprisoned  in  the  Conciergerie,  as 
was  Prince  Louis  Napoleon  after  the  "  affair  of 
Boulogne."  The  cell  that  he  occupied  is  now 
used  as  a  linen  closet,  although  the  window 
looking  out  on  a  small  court  is  still  heavy  with 
iron  bars. 

Originally,  when  the  Palais  de  Justice  was  a 
fortress  and  inhabited  by  the  kings  of  France, 
the  Conciergerie  served  as  a  common  prison ; 
but,  as  its  name  indicates,  it  was  also  the 
habitation  of  the  concierge,  or  porter,  of  the 
palace.  But  in  those  earlier  days  this  concierge 
was  something  more  than  an  ordinary  hall 
porter;  he  was  a  kind  of  governor  of  the 
royal  house,  although  specially  charged  with 


THE  PASSING  OF  FEUDALITY.  5? 


tlie  keeping  of  those  whom  royalty  saw  fit  to 
imprison.  In  1348  lie  was  given  the  official 
title  of  bailli.  The  concierge-bailli  had  al- 
most absolute  power  over  all  his  prisoners ; 
he  furnished  them  with  food  and  straw  at  his 
own  price,  and  more  than  once  it  happened 
that  prisoners  who  were  released  by  king  or 
justice  found  themselves  still  detained  at  the 
Conciergerie  until  they  paid  the  bills  of  their 
keeper.  The  mere  name  of  the  old  establish- 
ment calls  up  terrible  souvenirs,  for  its  heavy 
walls  have  witnessed  the  passing  of  feudality 
with  its  long  trail  of  misery  and  blood.  All 
the  political  movements,  all  the  religious 
passions,  have  brought  their  share  of  horrors 
into  the  annals  of  that  prison.  While  the 
quarrels  of  the  Armagnacs  and  the  Bour- 
guignons  were  going  on  those  who  were  with 
the  latter  broke  into  the  Conciergerie  and  mas- 
sacred all  within,  without  regard  to  sex  or  age. 
The  courtyard  flowed  with  blood,  and  its  stones 
were  covered  with  dead  bodies.  Numerous 
other  incidents  almost  equally  terrible  could  be 
related  of  the  place,  and  especially  of  those  aw- 
ful oubliettes,  from  which  no  human  being  ever 
returned. 

Mention  has  been  made  of  the  Cour  de  Mai 


58 


PAEIS, 


which  opens  on  the  grilled  gate  of  the  Court  of 
Justice.  Just  before  this  cour  is  a  large  stair- 
way, while  on  the  right  is  a  small  iron-barred 
gate.  If  one  looks  through  this  little  gate,  one 
can  see  a  second  door  of  arched  iron,  and  it  was 
by  this  last  that  Marie  Antoinette,  Charlotte 
Corday,  Danton,  Robespierre,  and  so  many 
others  who  were  condemned  by  the  Terror, 
made  their  exit  from  the  prison.  There  is  an 
engraving  in  existence  by  Duplessis-Bertaux 
which  represents  one  of  these  last  scenes.  In 
it  the  courtyard  of  the  Palais  is  crowded  with 
people  curious  to  see  the  condemned  creatures 
being  led  to  the  guillotine.  The  iron  gate  at 
which  the  tumbrils  awaited  their  u  passengers  " 
is  still  there.  Before  this  door  burned  a  gloomy 
lamp,  and  by  its  uncertain  light  the  keeper  of 
the  Conciergerie  "  checked  off  "  the  names  of 
those  who  departed.  By  him  passed  Charlotte 
Corday  and  Marie  Antoinette,  their  hands 
bound  tightly  together,  their  beautiful  necks 
uncovered,  but  they  walked  erect  and  proudly 
to  death.  It  was  necessary  for  them,  and  for 
all  the  others  who  passed  through  this  gate,  to 
bow  their  heads  beneath  the  overhanging  arch. 
It  was  like  saluting  their  prison  masters  before 
they  died. 


THE  CELL  OF  MARIE  ANTOINETTE.  59 


No  change  whatever  has  been  made  in  this 
courtyard  since  th%  Revolution,  but  many  things 
have  happened  to  the  prison  itself  since  its 
primitive  uses.  We  can  still  see  the  room  of 
the  Tour  d' Argent,  where  Queen  Blanche  was 
imprisoned.  It  is  true  that  for  a  long  while 
this  tower  was  used  for  no  purpose  whatever, 
but  in  1828  it  once  more  became  a  prison.  It 
is  believed  to  be  the  place  wherein  Louis  IX 
kept  his  treasures  when  he  was  king. 

The  Tour  de  Caesar  is  on  the  right  as  one  en- 
ters the  inside  court.  Time  was  that  it  had  no 
opening  on  the  quay,  but  when  it  was  made 
the  habitation  of  the  governor,  or  head  gaoler, 
several  narrow  windows  were  cut  through  the 
thick  walls. 

In  one  of  the  histories  that  I  have  run  across 
it  is  stated  that  the  Tour  de  Montgommeri  was 
demolished  in  1778,  but  this  is  an  error.  That 
tower,  was  the  same  as  the  one  known  by  the 
name  of  Tour  de  Caesar,  and  it  was  so  named 
from  the  beginning ;  it  was  merely  called  Tower 
of  Montgomery  because  it  served  as  prison 
for  that  celebrated  Protestant,  victim  of  the 
implacable  hatred  of  Catherine  de  Medicis.  In 
it  were  also  imprisoned  Cartouche  and  Da- 
miens,  and  in  1794  the  132  citizens  of  Nantes, 


60 


PARIS. 


who  were  brought  to  Paris.  The  details  of 
the  physical  and  moral  tortures  which  Damiens 
suffered  in  this  prison  are  startling  proofs  of  the 
barbarism  which  was  still  in  existence  in  the 
eighteenth  century. 

In  this  same  Tour  de  Caesar  a  certain  Pierre 
Bonaparte  was  lodged  in  1870,  as  was  Prince 
Napoleon  in  1883.  The  cells  which  Danton, 
Marat,  and  Saint  Just,  once  occupied  no  longer 
exist,  but  the  cachots  where  the  women  were 
imprisoned  are  still  there.  At  the  end  of  a  hall, 
on  the  right,  and  just  before  a  grating  which 
leads  to  other  cells,  is  the  prison-room  where 
Queen  Marie  Antoinette  remained  for  months, 
but  it  is  now  a  chapel.  Of  the  objects  which 
the  unfortunate  Queen  used  while  in  the  Con- 
ciergerie,  there  remain  a  small  lamp  suspended 
from  the  ceiling,  a  crucifix  on  the  altar,  and  her 
arm-chair. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


Autocracy  and  Democracy  early  disputing  the  right  of 
power — Relations  between  the  Romans  and  the 
citizens  of  Lutetia — The  Parlouer  aux  Bourgeois 
and  the  Maison  aux  Piliers  used  by  the  municipal- 
ity—The first  Hotel  de  Ville — Its  destruction  by 
the  Commune  in  1871— The  new  City  Hall— Of- 
ficial residence  of  the  Prefet  de  la  Seine — Often 
the  scene  of  magnificent  balls  in  mid-winter — 
The  rights  of  kings  and  citizens  early  defined — 
Beginning  of  municipal  authority. 

In  Paris,  autocracy  and  democracy  always 
have  disputed  the  right  of  power.  The  one, 
with  crown  on  head  and  sceptre  in  hand,  issued 
its  orders  from  some  royal  palace  until  the 
time  arrived  when  the  other,  with  hatchet  or 
pike  upheld,  dictated  its  decrees  from  its 
maison  commune,  the  city  hall.  Here,  the 
growing  Palais  de  la  Cite  was  the  abode  of 
despotic  kings  and  of  a  few  privileged  noble- 
men, who  had  become  enriched  by  the  sweat  of 
those  who  suffered  in  the  public  misery ;  there, 
the  u  parlouer  "  of  the  merchants  and  artisans, 
with  its  lugubrious  pillars,  reflecting  the  wor- 
ries and  doubts  of  its  members.     Then  the 


62 


PAEIS. 


scene  was  changed.  For  the  Palace  of  Kings, 
now  a  humble  suppliant,  was  forced  to  come 
and  cry  for  mercy  at  the  door  of  the  house 
wherein  the  sovereign  people  had  installed 
themselves. 

The  history  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville  at  Paris  is 
the  history  of  Parisian  democracy.  It  resumes 
the  struggles  and  triumphs,  the  defeats  and 
sufferings,  the  hopes  and  fears  of  the  people. 
It  is  the  complete  story  of  the  numerous  phases 
which  have  been  taken  on  by  Throne  and  Nation 
during  these  many  centuries.  Because  the 
Municipality  of  Paris  has  nearly  always  placed 
itself  between  the  sceptre  and  the  citizen,  its 
privileges  have  nearly  always  been  insurmoun- 
table obstacles  to  crown  cupidity.  From  time 
immemorial  the  Paris  municipality  has  come  to 
the  aid  of  the  humble  against  the  haughty,  and 
whether  victors  or  vanquished,  the  men  of  the 
Hotel  de  Ville  have  never  been  afraid  to  speak 
to  the  kings  of  France. 

It  is  not  my  intention,  however,  to  trace  a 
detailed  history  of  Parisian  emotions ;  I  will 
therefore  confine  myself  as  succinctly  as  possible, 
to  the  special  facts  which  are  pertinent  to  the 
subject  of  this  chapter,  throwing  only  quick 
regard  on  the  enormous  panorama  which  is 


GROWTH  OF  MUNICIPALITY.  63 


unrolling  itself  before  our  reading  eyes.  To  go 
back  to  ancient  times,  we  find  the  Cite  pro- 
tected against  encroachments  by  a  corps  of 
subaltern  officers  chosen  by  the  Nautes,  or 
group  of  persons  doing  business  along  or  on 
the  Seine,  and  charged  to  render  justice  in  the 
name  of  the  Roman  Pro-Consul. 

In  the  upheavals  of  Parisian  soil  have  been 
found  at  different  periods  numerous  fragments 
which  show  us  how  close  were  the  relations 
between  the  Romans  and  the  citizens  of  Lutetia. 
One  such  bears  the  inscription  in  Latin : 

"  TIB  CJESARE 
AUG.  JOVI  OPTUMO  MAXUMO  M  NAUTLE 
PARISIACI  PUBLICE  POSUERUJNTT. " 

The  Nantes  must  therefore  have  been  of  some 
importance  at  that  early  period,  as  otherwise 
the  Romans  would  hardly  have  consecrated  a 
public  monument  to  them.  The  barbarians 
respected  the  municipal  government  of  the 
Cit£  by  recognising  its  authority  whenever 
it  was  possible  to  do  so,  but  jurisdiction 
over  navigation  rested  alone  with  the  Nautesy 
which  body  soon  changed  its  name  to  that  of 
Hanse,  which  signified  union  or  association. 

The  history  of  municipal  government  under 
the  first  two  races  after  the  Romans  had  gone 


64 


PARIS. 


is  lost  among  the  uncertainties  of  ancient  chron- 
iclers ;  nevertheless,  certain  regulations  concern- 
ing the  policing  of  the  river,  made  in  636  by 
Dagobert,  in  798  by  Charlemagne,  and  in  865 
by  Charles  the  Bald,  assures  us  that  the  Nautes 
still  existed,  although  under  a  different  name 
perhaps.  These  municipal  officers  assembled 
at  first  in  a  house  which  stood  in  what  was 
then  called  the  "  Valley  of  Misery,"  but  is  now 
the  Quai  de  la  Megisserie.  From  there  they 
went  to  their  own  "  Parlouer  aux  Bourgeois," 
near  the  Grand  Chatelet,  and  thence,  in  course 
of  time  to  a  new  parlouer,  which  was  situated 
in  one  of  the  large  towers  of  the  city  walls 
close  by  the  Jacobins  of  the  Rue  Saint  Jacques. 
In  1274,  and  during  the  reign  of  Philippe  III, 
their  association  was  qualified  as  u  Prevdt  et 
^Ichevins  des  Marchands  de  la  Ville  de  Paris," 
and  at  the  beginning  of  the  Crusades  they  took 
on  their  own  coat-of-arms. 

In  1357  the  municipal  body  purchased  a 
house  called  the  "  Maison  aux  Piliers  "  because 
of  its  row  of  pillars  in  front,  and  which  Charles 
VI  had  occupied  in  his  younger  days.  It  was 
not  a  very  large  mansion,  but  it  served  the 
purposes  of  the  municipality  for  a  long  while. 
During  the  two  centuries  which  followed,  the 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  HOTEL  DE  VILLE.  65 


city  bought  the  surrounding  houses  and  lands, 
and  it  was  finally  decided  that  these  old  struc- 
tures should  be  demolished,  and  a  large  edifice 
be  built  on  the  place  thus  created.  The  corner 
stone  of  the  proposed  Hotel  de  Ville  was  laid 
by  the  Prevot  des  Marchands  in  July,  1533, 
while  Frangois  Premier  was  on  the  throne,  but 
work  on  it  was  not  finished  until  in  1605.  It 
served  the  city  until  it  was  set  on  fire  by  the 
Commune  of  1871,  when  it  was  completely 
destroyed.  The  rich  statues  of  celebrated 
Parisians  and  other  historical  persons  which 
ornamented  it,  its  many  and  picturesque  paint- 
ings, its  priceless  old  volumes  and  documents,  its 
ancient  furniture  and  rare  tapestries — all  these 
things  disappeared  in  smoke  and  flame. 

After  the  Third  Republic  was  well  estab- 
lished, the  Municipal  Council  of  Paris  decided 
that  a  new  Hotel  de  Ville  should  be  built  on 
the  old  site,  and  it  was  ready  for  occupancy  in 
1882. 

The  present  City  Hall  is  an  immense  and 
noble  edifice,  majestic  in  its  ensemble,  elegant 
and  moving  in  detail,  wholly  worthy  of  the 
great  capital,  an  honour  to  the  municipality  as 
it  also  is  to  its  architects.  Built  after  the  style 
of,  and  from  nearly  the  same  plans  as  the  old 


66 


PARIS. 


Hotel  de  Ville,  though  much  larger — there  are 
no  fewer  than  368  rooms  in  it,  some  of  them  of 
vast  dimensions — it  cost  more  than  four  million 
dollars,  and  covers  a  total  superficial  area  of 
14,476  metres.  The  principal  halls  are  the 
Salle  des  Fetes,  the  Salle  des  Prevots,  the 
Salon  des  Arcades,  the  Council  Chambre  and 
the  parlours  of  the  Prefecture. 

The  first  prefect1  to  occupy  the  new  edifice — 
not  without  violent  opposition  on  the  part  of 
the  "  City  Fathers  " — was  M.  Poubelle,  and  his 
official  residence  took  up  all  the  first  floor  of 
the  corner  of  the  Southwest  pavilion,  over- 
looking the  little  garden  facing  the  River  Seine. 
From  the  cabinet  at  the  angle  is  a  suite  of 
salons  and  rooms  communicating  along  the 
whole  south  front  of  the  edifice,  and  when  all 
the  doors  are  open  it  is  a  long  perspective,  at 
the  end  of  which  appears  the  portal  of  the 
church  of  Saint  Gervais.  All  these  rooms  are 
spacious,  with  high  ceilings,  and  lighted  by 
arched  windows  opening  in  walls  of  great  thick- 
ness.   If  ever  an  enemy's  fleet  should  mount 

1  The  Prefect  de  la  Seine  is  appointed  by  the  govern- 
ment and  is  a  state  officer,  governor  over  the  civil  de- 
partment of  Paris  ;  his  offices  and  residence  are  in  the 
City  Hall. 


THE  CITY  HALL  OF  TO-DAY. 


07 


the  Seine  to  attack  these  Babylonian  walls,  they 
would  have  a  task  to  batter  them  down,  in  all 
probability.  In  the  Prefecture  itself  there  are 
three  salons,  or  parlours,  a  fine  library,  a  large 
dining-room,  ten  bedrooms,  a  nursery  for  chil- 
dren, a  hot-house,  garden,  and  conservatory  for 
plants  and  flowers,  besides  a  series  or  suite  of 
corner  nooks,  rather  obscure  perhaps,  that  is  to 
say,  ill-lighted  through  narrow  windows,  and 
decorated  with  such  names  as  toilet-rooms,  bath- 
rooms, pantry,  etc.  And  then  in  a  third  line 
are  still  more  rooms,  in.  one  of  which  are  three 
billiard  tables,  which  are  well  lighted  from 
an  interior  courtyard.  Besides,  there  are  two 
grand  corridors  leading  from  the  vestibule  to 
an  outdoor  garden,  not  to  mention  a  complicated 
network  of  dark  galleries  where  electricity  or 
gas  is  always  burning. 

The  general  decoration  is  rich  and  by  no 
means  commonplace.  There  is  not  over  much 
style,  however,  in  the  white  and  gold  salons, 
and  perhaps  there  is  too  much  of  false  maple, 
false  ebony,  and  false  mahogany.  The  ceilings 
are  everywhere  of  the  style  of  the  Chateau  de 
Blois  and  are  of  desolating  flatness.  There  is 
only  the  single  exception,  that  of  the  Louis  XVI 
room,  which  makes  some  show  of  excellence 


68 


PARIS. 


and  which  in  consequence  is  called  the  chamber 
of  Madame  la  Prefete. 

From  these  decorated  halls  one  may  step  for 
a  short  while  into  the  little  garden  and  enjoy 
the  very  Parisian  view  that  lies  before  him. 
There  is  movement,  life,  activity,  even  gaiety 
on  the  river,  and  one  may  see  the  prow  of  the 
He  Saint  Louis,  the  noble  line  of  the  pinnacles 
of  .Notre  Dame,  the  entangling  of  bridges  that 
seems  to  be  descending  toward  the  setting  sun. 
Up  above,  nearer  at  hand,  on  his  horse  of  stone, 
the  Grand  Provost  of  the  Merchants  is  watch- 
ing over  his  good  city,  and  yet,  sorry  to  say,  his 
immobile  and  proud  regard  has  no  other  object 
than  the  Morgue.  Even  the  prefet,  whenever 
he  goes  to  the  lookout  windows  on  that  side  of 
his  residence,  will  also  have  that  not  too 
pleasant  perspective.  He  will  never  see  more 
than  the  Morgue  over  the  back  of  sulky 
Etienne  Marcel  and  his  chiselled  steed.  But 
perhaps  that  is  to  be  the  punishment  of  all  pre- 
fects for  daring  to  install  themselves  under 
roofs  which  the  jealous  ambition  of  Paris  alder- 
men wanted  to  keep  for  the  coming  of  the 
mayor  of  the  future. 

The  new  Hotel  de  Ville  is  often  the  scene  of 
magnificent  festivals.    Once   or  twice  every 


MAGNIFICENT  WINTEK  FESTIVALS.  69 


winter  a  free  ball  or  a  promenade  concert  is 
given  to  the  people  and  other  invited  guests. 
On  these  occasions  from  six  to  ten  thousand 
invitations  are  issued,  and  the  whole  affair,  in-' 
eluding  three  or  four  orchestras  stationed  in 
different  halls  and  rooms,  two  enormous  huffets 
for  free  refreshments,  etc.,  is  managed,  as  one 
might  say,  regardless  of  cost,  and  these  soirees 
are  as  democratic  as  they  are  luxurious,  or  vice 
versa.  It  may  be  added  that  on  these  gala 
occasions  the  grand  marble  stairway  presents 
the  magnificent  spectacle  of  two  splendid  look- 
ing guardsmen  in  full  uniform  and  with  drawn 
sabres  standing  on  every  step,  leading  from  the 
enormous  cloak  room  (there  are  receptacles  for 
ten  thousand  numbered  objects)  up  to  the  Salle 
des  Fetes  on  one  side,  and  to  the  Salle  des  Pre- 
vots  on  the  other,  in  all  some  sixty  steps,  thus 
presenting  the  brilliant  sight  of  over  240 
motionless  dragoons,  the  pick  of  the  French  army, 
welcoming,  so  to  speak,  the  people  to  their  own 
civic  temple.  They  invoke  souvenirs  of  the 
cent-gardes  of  the  Second  Empire;  and  always, 
looking  back  through  centuries,  one  seems  to 
fancy  the  presence  here  of  the  French  guards,  the 
Swiss  guards,  the  mousquetaires,  and  even  be- 
fore them,  the  musketeers  of  the  archers  of  the 
ancient  prevots. 


70 


PARIS. 


But  to  hark  back,  though  briefly  only,  to  the 
time  when  the  Maison  aux  Piliers  en  Greve 
became  the  parlour  of  the  bourgeoise.  The 
commercial  people,  the  artisans,  most  of  the 
inhabitants  in  fact  were  soon  accustomed  to 
looking  on  it  as  their  protector,  and  in  all  the 
"  excitements  "  which  then  and  since  have  agi- 
tated the  capital,  the  City  Hall  has  been  the 
point  of  reunion,  the  centre  toward  which  all 
insurgents  hasten. 

There  was  trouble  in  Paris  after  the  death 
of  Charles  le  Sage,  and  when  the  Duke  of 
Anjou  was  Regent  for  Charles  VI,  on  account 
of  the  finances,  but  the  storm  did  not  break 
until  October  13,  1382.  Then  the  people 
rushed  to  the  city  parlouer,  armed  themselves 
with  lances,  swords,  halberds  and  some  forty 
thousand  iron  maillets 1  and  then  they  marched 
against  the  Chateau  de  Beaute,  on  Vincennes, 
on  the  Louvre,  on  the  Bastille,  on  all  the  other 
fortresses  about  them.  They  had  already  de- 
stroyed the  Chatelet,  when  a  merchant  named 
Le  Flamand  induced  them  to  cease  their  work 
of  destruction  and  to  engage  in  war  outside 
the  city.    Charles,  who  was  at  Gand,  hurried 

1  Mallets.  Those  who  armed  themselves  with  these 
maillets  are  known  In  history  as  Maillotijis. 


XNSUKRECTION  OF  THE  MAILLETONS.  71 


with  part  of  his  army  on  Paris,  met  the  in- 
surgents, drove  them  back  to  the  capital, 
marched  in  at  the  Porte  Saint  Denis  and  slept 
tranquilly  at  the  Louvre,  while  his  uncles  were 
seizing  all  the  arms  and  supplies  of  the  citizens. 

As  soon  as  possible  Charles  suppressed  the 
Corps  de  Prevot  et  fichevins,  refused  to  receive 
their  delegation,  restored  the  aides,  gahelles, 
fonages,  douzihnes,  treiziemes,  and  other  taxes, 
and  transferred  the  authority  of  the  Municipal 
corps  to  the  city  prevot.  Meanwhile  his 
Breton  soldiers  had  been  turned  loose  on  the 
outlying  fields  and  farmhouses  which  many 
Parisians  owned,  while  the  King's  judges, 
u  grands  pourvoyeurs  de  givet"  had  three 
hundred  of  the  principal  conspirators  decap- 
itated. Le  Flamand  was  one  of  the  first  vic- 
tims. After  thus  striking  terror  into  the  bour- 
geois, heralds  were  sent  about  in  the  name  of 
the  King,  ordering  the  people,  men,  women,  and 
children,  to  assemble  at  the  Palais.  When 
everybody  had  crowded  into  that  neighbour- 
hood, all  the  streets  were  blocked  by  Breton 
soldiers,  and  then  the  chancellor  announced 
to  the  multitude  that  it  was  his  Majesty's  in- 
tention that  the  punishment  should  be  as  ter- 
rible as  their  crime  had  been.    In  terror  the 


PARIS. 


people  threw  themselves  on  their  knees,  crying 
misericorde,  and  mercy!  the  King  pretended 
to  be  touched  by  their  appeals,  they  were  per- 
mitted to  depart,  and  thus  ended  the  insurrec- 
tion of  the  Maillotins. 

For  nearly  thirty  years  the  municipal  body 
ceased  to  exist,  and  Paris  was?  from  both  civil 
and  military  view,  under  the  grand  prevot; 
but  this  regime  was  soon  to  have  its  ending 
also.  The  struggle  of  the  Dukes  of  Orleans 
and  of  Bourgogne,  the  English  invasion,  the 
quarrels  of  the  Bourguignons  and  the  Armag- 
nacs,  these  and  other  things  forced  Charles  VI 
to  solicit  the  aid  of  the  Parisians;  little  by 
little  their  privileges  were  restored,  the  Par- 
louer  mix  Bourgeois  was  reopened,  and  the 
Corps  des  Prevdt  et  Echevins  was  re-established. 
But  it  was  some  years  before  the  ancient  rights 
of  the  city  were  completely  restored  to  its  in- 
habitants. The  municipal  officers,  thus  re- 
invested with  prerogatives  and  privileges,  set 
about  securing  the  interests  of  the  citizens  by 
encouraging  industries,  commerce,  art,  even 
literature,  but  during  the  fourteen  years  when 
the  English  were  masters  in  Paris,  election  of 
these  officers  was  completely  suspended. 

Thirty  years  or  so  later,  the  capital  gave 


THE  GRAND  PROVOST  ON  HIS  HORSE  OF  STOKE, 


GRAND  RECEPTION  OF  LOUIS  XI. 


Louis  XI  a  grand  reception  after  his  corona- 
tion at  Reims.  On  the  30th  of  August,  1461, 
he  arrived  at  the  Hotel  des  Porcherons,  situate 
near  the  Porte  Saint  Honore,  outside  the  walls, 
but  he  made  his  solemn  entrance  at  the  Porte 
Saint  Denis,  where  he  was  met  by  the  munici- 
pal government,  dressed  in  damask  robes 
adorned  with  sable,  and  who  had  come  to  offer 
the  King  the  keys  of  the  city.  Inside  the 
walls  were  five  heralds  escorting  five  ladies 
richly  robed  and  mounted  on  horses;  each  of 
these  dames  had  for  sign  and  for  name  one  of  the 
five  letters  that  composed  the  word  PARIS ; 
and  at  the  Pont  au  Change  two  hundred  thou- 
sand birds  of  every  kind  were  turned  loose. 

Louis  XI  accorded  new  privileges  to  the 
municipal  government,  and  Paris  was  fast 
acquiring  great  importance ;  but  the  municipal- 
ity again  lost  most  of  its  independence  under 
the  reign  of  Louis  XII. 

About  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century 
the  prevot  and  echevins  participated  in  the 
civil  wars  and  massacres  of  France  ;  and  on  the 
night  of  Saint  Bartholomew  the  bourgeois 
assembled  at  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  took  up  arms, 
and  when  the  bell  of  Saint  Germain  1' Auxerrois 
had  given  the  signal  they  marched  through  the 


74 


PARIS. 


city  carrying  death  and  carnage  everywhere. 
Next  morning  one  of  their  number,  a  wretch 
named  Pezoa,  boasted  publicly  of  having 
killed  120  Protestants.  No  regard  was  paid 
to  sex  or  age,  and  when  the  massacres  had 
ceased,  the  manikin  of  Admiral  Coligni  was 
hung  up  in  the  Place  de  Greve  between  two 
men  who  were  hanged  alive,  while  the  King 
and  his  mother  enjoyed  the  spectacle  from  the 
window  of  the  Hotel  de  Yille. 

The  "City  Fathers,"  took  active  part  in  the 
conspiracy  of  the  Ligueurs,  and  then  the 
Journtfe  des  Barricades,  elsewhere  mentioned, 
followed.  Driven  from  Paris  by  the  bourgeois, 
who  were  instigated  by  the  Duke  de  Guise, 
the  King  retired  first  to  St.  Cloud,  and  thence 
to  the  village  of  Trappes,  on  the  road  to 
Rambouillet.  It  is  not  within  my  purpose  to 
establish  points  of  similarity  in  this  history  of 
Paris,  but  it  is  rather  curious,  the  fact  that  the 
last  of  the  Valois  and  the  last  king  of  the 
Bourbons  should  have  abandoned  the  capital 
to  the  mercy  of  its  inhabitants  and  thus  fled 
from  their  own  subjects.  In  time  Henri  IV 
was  permitted  to  enter  Paris,  and  it  was  during 
the  reign  of  that  prince  that  the  first  Hotel  de 
Ville  was  finished. 


THE  EVENTS  OF  1789. 


75 


I  pass  over  the  reigns  of  the  Bourbon  family, 
to  come  at  once  to  the  events  of  1789.  On  the 
14th  of  July  the  electors  of  Paris  assembled  at 
the  Hotel  de  Ville,  adopted  an  order  fixing  the 
strength  of  the  militia,  and  sent  a  committee  to 
the  Governor  of  the  Bastille  for  arms.  Delaunay 
refused  to  honour  the  people's  requisition,  and 
a  few  hours  later  the  Bastille  was  in  their 
possession.  On  the  fifteenth,  Bailly  was  ap- 
pointed provisional  Mayor  of  Paris,  and  two 
days  afterward  Louis  XVI  went  to  the  Hotel 
de  Ville  to  receive  from  him  the  same  keys  to 
the  city  that  had  been  handed  to  Henri  IV. 
The  King  accepted  this  gage  of  peace,  and 
responded  to  it  by  wearing  a  cocarde  and 
appointing  Lafayette  Colonel- General.  But 
the  people  had  no  confidence  in  the  royal  word, 
and  his  every  act  was  watched  closely.  The 
electors  formed  a  military  and  police  committee 
composed  of  sixty  members,  and  they  threatened 
Necker  and  the  King.  The  latter  went  with  all 
his  family  to  the  Hotel  de  Ville  to  declare  to 
the  bourgeois  that  if  it  would  satisfy  the  people 
he  would  fix  his  residence  entirely  in  the  capital. 
From  that  moment  the  Commune  was  the  real 
government  before  which  the  Court  trembled. 
The  rest  is  known  and  need  not  be  repeated. 
In  time,  however,  the  power  of  the  Commune 


PARIS. 


was  annihilated  and  once  more  the  Conseil 
municipale  of  Paris  was  at  the  City  Hall.  But 
long  before,  when  France  was  organised  into 
prefectures,  the  Hotel  de  Ville  became  the 
residence  of  the  Prefet  de  la  Seine,  and  it  has 
been  so  since  except  during  the  few  years  when 
Paris  was  without  a  City  Hall.  Under  the 
Consulat  and  the  Empire  the  municipal  power 
in  Paris  suffered  the  same  fate  as  the  legisla- 
tive and  judicial  power ;  they  fell  beneath  the 
absolute  power  of  a  man  who  would  suffer  no 
authority  but  his  own  to  prevail.  The  Hotel 
de  Ville  was  given  up  to  festivals,  the  magni- 
ficence of  which  increased  with  each  step  that 
the  country  made  towards  becoming  the  Empire 
of  the  World,  and  which  was  also  a  step  to- 
ward its  own  ruin.  It  was  then  that  the 
municipality  was  made  subordinate,  so  to 
speak,  to  the  Prefet  of  the  Seine,  which  second 
position  it  still  holds  in  most  things. 

When  Louis  XVIII  was  dead,  and  when 
Charles  X  had  been  driven  out  of  France, 
General  de  Lafayette,  the  man  of  two  revolu- 
tions, arrived  at  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  and  with 
him  was  the  Duke  of  Orleans.  The  Duke  was 
presented  to  the  people,  and  on  his  head  they 
placed  the  crown  which  his  cousin  lost.  Louis 
Philippe  had  very  little  to  do  with  the  Hotel 


ANOTHER  REPUBLIC  PROCLAIMED.  77 


de  Ville  after  that,  and  in  due  course  of  time 
he  too  fell  and  fled.  Then  the  re-establishment 
of  a  Republic  was  announced  at  the  city  hall. 
Government  had  passed  from  the  Tuileries  to 
the  Chamber  of  Deputies,  and  from  the  Cham- 
ber to  the  Hotel  de  Ville  in  a  few  hours. 
Lamartine,  the  poet  statesman,  was  the  Orpheus 
who  in  turn  appeased  and  charmed  the  populace. 
Standing  on  the  steps  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  he 
opposed  to  the  white  flag,  which,  dragged  in 
blood,  had  never  made  more  than  the  circuit  of 
the  Champ  de  Mars,  the  drapeau  tricolore 
which  had  made  the  circuit  of  the  world,  and 
he  won.  But  the  Republic  of  1848  died  soon, 
and  again  the  powers  of  the  municipality 
were  restricted  while  the  Second  Empire  lasted. 
Again  the  Hotel  de  Ville  became  the  scene  of 
splendid  festivals.  Balls  and  banquets  were  the 
important  incidents  in  that  establishment  while 
Louis  Napoleon  was  on  the  imperial  throne, 
and  then,  almost  simultaneously  with  his  down- 
fall, the  grand  old  edifice  disappeared  from  off 
the  face  of  the  earth.  However  another  Re- 
public had  been  proclaimed,  and  Jules  Ferry, 
the  great  French  statesman  and  journalist,  had 
been  installed  as  Mayor  of  Paris  in  the  old 
City  Hall  before  it  was  destroyed  by  a  mad 
populace. 


CHAPTER  V. 


The  order  of  the  Templars — They  build  a  grand  fort- 
ress in  Paris — Accused  of  secret  rites  and  impious 
sacrifices — Jacques  de  Molay  burned  alive — The 
Temple  given  over  to  the  Hospitaliers — Its  popu- 
lation of  four  thousand  souls — Its  final  destruction 
in  1811 — The  first  Marche  du  Temple — A  remark- 
able old  clothes  depot — How  it  was  made  to  pay  by 
the  city — The  Abbey  and  Church  of  Saint  Germain 
des  Pres — Duelling  and  brawling  grounds  of  the 
students — The  scene  of  horrible  massacres. 

The  precise  period  when  the  Templars  ar- 
rived in  France  is  unknown,  but  it  appears  that 
in  1228  they  were  proprietors  of  all  the  land  in 
Paris  since  included  in  the  Quartier  du  Temple. 
On  this  property  they  built  a  castle,  flanked  by 
towers  and  surrounded  by  spacious  courts  and 
a  fine  garden.  A  stout  wall  defended  all  ap- 
proaches to  the  place,  and  around  this  heavy 
wall  was  a  deep  moat,  which  could  only  be 
crossed  when  the  drawbridge  was  down.  It 
was  here  where  the  religious  knights,  who  pre- 
tended to  recognise  no  earthly  authority  but 
their  own  Grand  Master,  reigned  sovereign-like 


THE  KNIGHTS  TEMPLARS. 


79 


during  more  than  one  hundred  years,  opposing 
to  the  kings  of  France  a  jurisdiction,  the  pre- 
rogatives and  abuses  of  which  their  majesties 
were  compelled  to  recognise.  The  Temple  was 
so  secure  a  fortress  that  Louis  IX  used  to  de- 
posit his  treasures  there  whenever  he  absented 
himself  from  Paris.  Philippe  le  Hardi  followed 
this  example,  and,  strange  to  say,  Philippe  le 
Bel  lodged  for  awhile  within  the  place,  thus 
confiding  himself  to  the  safekeeping  of  an  Or- 
der of  which  later  on  he  burned  the  Grand 
Master  and  its  principal  dignitaries. 

It  can  be  readily  understood  that  the  Tem- 
plars, proud  of  the  hospitality  they  thus  ac- 
corded kings,  bothered  themselves  very  little 
about  poor  travellers.  Under  the  name  of 
Commanderies,  they  owned  some  of  the  finest 
estates  in  France,  and  they  almost  had  a  mo- 
nopoly of  all  wheat  grown.  They  became  very 
insolent,  indulged  in  all  the  vices,  and  laid  up 
enormous  riches  for  themselves.  To  them  be- 
longed the  finest  horses,  the  best  arms,  the 
largest  churches  and  mansions,  the  most  sumpt- 
uous costumes,  the  rarest  wines,  also  the  most 
beautiful  women.  The  proverb,  "  Boire  comme 
un  Templier  "  is  still  popular  in  France. 

But,  by  and  by,  some  one  began  to  accuse 


80 


PAEIS, 


the  Order  with  indulging  in  magic  work,  a 
familiar  crime  in  that  time  of  ignorance,  and  it 
was  whispered  that  the  Templars  had  secret 
rites  and  made  impious  sacrifices.  Serious  his- 
torians have  denied  these  accusations,  neverthe- 
less, their  turbulent  conduct  was  often  contrary 
to  royal  authority,  and  for  these  "  crimes  "  they 
were  punished  severely,  Philippe  le  Bel  had 
all  Templars  in  France  arrested,  he  seized  their 
property,  had  them  tried  by  royal  and  ecclesi- 
astical judges,  and  they  were  condemned  with- 
out having  been  put  to  torture.  In  1312  the 
powerful  Order  was  suppressed,  and  two  years 
later  Jacques  de  Molay  and  Guy,  brother  to 
the  Dauphin  of  Auvergne,  both  of  them  the 
highest  in  rank  in  the  Order,  were  burned  alive 
on  that  spot  of  the  bridge  called  Pont  Neuf, 
where  the  statue  of  Henry  IV  now  stands. 
Their  goods  were  sold  to  defray  the  expense 
of  this  trial,  and  all  the  riches  of  the  Order 
were  given  to  the  brethren  of  the  Order  of  St. 
John  of  Jerusalem,  known  afterwards  as  the 
Knights  of  Malta,  and  who  also  took  possession 
of  the  Temple. 

Henri  IV  who  had  just  finished  the  Place 
Royale,  had  an  idea  of  buying  the  property,  of 
pulling  down  the  Temple,  and  of  creating  a 


THE  HOSPITALIERS. 


81 


demi-circular  square,  from  which  eight  splen- 
did streets  should  radiate.  The  plans  were 
drawn  up,  and  Sully  was  charged  with  the  car- 
rying of  them  out,  when  the  dagger  of  Ravaillac 
put  an  end  to  all  of  King  Henri's  projects. 
Having  thus  escaped  the  danger  of  being  dis- 
possessed, the  Hospitaliers,  by  order  of  their 
Grand  Prior,  Jacques  de  Souvre,  built  a  priory, 
enlarged  their  flour  mills,  and  soon  the  quarter 
became  of  as  much  importance  as  the  Place 
Roy  ale. 

In  the  latter  years  of  the  reign  of  Louis 
XIV,  Philippe  of  Vendome,  who  had  dis- 
tinguished himself  at  the  siege  of  Candie,  at 
the  taking  of  Namur,  and  in  Piedmont,  was,  in 
his  quality  of  Prince  of  the  Blood  and  Knight 
of  Malta,  named  Grand  Prior  of  the  Temple  at 
Paris.  Thereupon  he  gave  himself  over  to  epi- 
curean tastes  and  pleasures,  and  his  late  sup- 
pers at  the  old  Temple  soon  became  famous,  not 
to  say  notorious.  The  Prince  of  Conti  suc- 
ceeded Philippe  of  Vendome,  and  in  1770  he 
opened  the  doors  of  the  Temple  to  Jean  Jacques 
Rousseau,  who  was  pursued  not  only  by  phan- 
toms of  his  own  imagination,  but  by  real  ene- 
mies to  whom  he  owed  money. 

The  Temple  enclosure,  with  its  population 


82 


PAEIS. 


of  some  four  thousand  souls,  was  then  inhabited 
by  three  kinds  of  persons ;  the  Grand  Prior,  the 
dignitaries  of  the  Order,  and  a  few  noblemen 
with  their  families ;  workingmen  who  had  been 
attracted  to  the  place  by  cheap  rents ;  and  debt- 
ors who  found  refuge  there  against  their  credi- 
tors. This  was  one  of  the  customs  of  the 
Middle  Ages  which  the  Government  tolerated 
until  1779,  when  all  the  enclosure  was  sold  by 
empythentic  lease,  that  is  to  say,  for  a  long 
term  of  years,  and  given  over  to  private  enter- 
prises. 

Somewhile  later  the  main  fortress,  a  great, 
square  tower  flanked  by  four  round  towers, 
was  partially  demolished.  The  tower  was 
about  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  high  and  had 
four  stories ;  on  the  second  floor  Louis  XVI  was 
imprisoned,  and  it  was  thence  he  went  to  the 
guillotine.  The  walls  were  nearly  ten  feet 
thick,  and  it  was  finally  destroyed  in  1811. 

In  1781  a  large  establishment  was  built  on 
these  grounds;  it  is  still  in  existence,  and  is 
known  as  the  Marche  du  Temple  ;  it  is  a  mar- 
ket for  second-hand  goods,  and  is  one  of  the 
curious  corners  of  the  French  capital. 

The  first  March6  du  Temple  was  a  wooden 
building,  consisting  of  a  central  rotunda  and  four 


THE  OLD  CLOTHES  MARKET.  83 


wings,  with,  two  thousand  stalls  or  stands,  each 
of  which  the  city  rented  to  second-hand  clothes 
dealers  for  as  much  as  fifty  cents  a  week.  Be- 
tween the  rotunda  and  the  wings  was  a  large 
space  called  the  carreau,  wherein  no  stands 
were  allowed,  and  where  a  class  of  dealers 
known  as  chineurs  were  permitted  to  sell  be- 
tween certain  hours  of  the  forenoon,  on  condi- 
tion that  they  displayed  their  goods  on  the 
ground,  remained  standing  themselves,  and 
when  the  bell  rang  announcing  the  closing  of  the 
carreau,  carried  away  their  stock  in  trade  with 
them.  The  carreau  was  intended  for  none  but 
the  very  poorest  of  old  clothes'  people,  and  this 
established  two  categories  of  dealers  in  the 
Temple — the  marchands  a  boutique,  who  had  a 
stall  in  the  rotunda,  or  in  one  of  the  wings, 
and  the  marchands  au  carreau.  There  was 
not  much  change  in  the  Temple  Market  during 
the  first  sixty  years  of  its  existence ;  but  after 
that  the  city  government  realised  the  constant 
danger  of  conflagration  presented  by  so  large  a 
wooden  structure  in  the  very  centre  of  one  of 
the  most  populous  quarters  of  the  capital,  hence 
it  was  decided  to  replace  it  by  an  iron  and 
glass  building  similar  to  those  which  had  been 
adopted  for  other  markets  in  Paris. 


84 


PARIS. 


As  the  city  was  short  of  funds  just  then,  it 
turned  the  management  of  this  Temple  Market 
over  to  a  joint  stock  company,  which,  in  return 
for  a  fifty  years'  concession,  undertook  to  build 
a  new  structure  and  to  pay  the  city  an  annual 
ground  rent  of  $40,000.  This  company  re- 
moved the  carreau  to  the  upper  floor  of  the 
new  establishment,  and  in  order  to  induce  the 
chineurs  to  accept  this  change,  it  provided  them 
with  closets  called  casters,  measuring  a  yard 
each  way,  wherein  they  might  lock  their  stuff 
after  the  market  closed.  There  are  five  hun- 
dred of  these  casters  arranged  in  three  tiers 
along  the  walls,  and  for  each  one  of  them  the 
company  charges  a  rent  of  sixty  cents  a  month, 
besides  which  the  chineurs  pay  three  cents  for 
every  bundle  they  bring  into  the  place,  plus  an 
entrance  fee  of  one  cent  apiece  for  themselves 
and  assistants  daily. 

Another  change  made  at  the  same  time  was 
that  the  carreau,  instead  of  closing  at  nine 
o'clock  in  the  morning  was  allowed  to  remain 
open  until  eleven  o'clock.  The  wiarchands  h 
boutique  on  the  ground  floor  begin  business  at 
nine  o'clock  and  continue  it  all  day,  and  every 
day,  until  five  o'clock.  They  pay  a  daily  rent, 
which  varies  according  to  the  location  of  the 


THE  TEMPLE  MARKET, 


85 


stall,  from  four  to  seven  cents  per  square  yard 
occupied,  and  this  makes  the  weekly  rental  of 
some  of  the  stands  in  the  Temple  come  as  high 
as  eight  to  fourteen  dollars.  Besides  this  each 
stall  pays  five  cents  a  week  for  the  cleaning 
and  for  the  watchman,  and  a  fee  of  from  ten 
cents  to  thirty  cents  every  quarter  for  what  is 
known  as  the  war  fund  of  1870-71.  The  bou- 
tiques are,  as  the  name  implies,  little  shops  so 
arranged  that  the  dealers  can  display  their 
stock  to  advantage  by  hanging  it  outside  dur- 
ing the  day,  and  some  of  them  are  supplied 
with  show  windows.  There  are  now  about 
fifteen  hundred  of  these  marchands  du  Temple, 
all  women,  though  many  of  them  have  a  girl  or 
two  to  help  them  in  their  business. 

But  the  Temple  Market  is  no  longer  what  it 
was  originally  intended  to  be.  It  is  not  now 
even  what  it  was  twenty  years  ago,  that  is  to 
say,  a  place  for  the  sale  of  old  clothes  only ; 
then  all  the  cast-off  trousers,  coats,  overcoats, 
hats,  shoes,  underwear,  etc.,  of  Paris  found  their 
way  to  the  Temple.  Everything  was  repaired 
and  cleaned  up  a  little,  so  that  it  might  resem- 
ble, after  a  fashion,  what  it  had  been  when 
new,  and  it  found  purchasers  among  those  who 
wished  to  dress  beyond  their  means.    All  sorts 


86 


PAEIS. 


of  things  were  being  sold  in  the  Temple  in  the 
days  when  I  first  went  to  Paris.  Shoes  so  old 
that  the  soles  and  uppers  had  almost  parted 
company,  coats  in  the  last  stages  of  threadbare- 
ness,  tall  hats  from  which  all  the  nap  had  dis- 
appeared, corsets  with  every  whalebone  broken 
and  much  of  the  linen  torn  off,  soiled  gloves, 
badly  ripped  and  buttonless,  broken  feathers 
and  torn  ribbons,  worn-out  petticoats,  imitation 
jewelry,  even  old  pots  and  pans  were  among 
the  things  spread  out  for  sale,  and  as  we,  the 
customers,  walked  along  the  paths  left  between 
the  rows  of  stock  and  stalls,  our  trade  was  so- 
licited by  ces  dames  of  the  Marche  du  Temple 
in  tones  not  unmelodious.  But  now  nearly 
everything  at  the  Temple  is  new,  and  it  is  very, 
very  cheap ;  and  if  one  wants  to  find  second- 
hand clothes,  or  anything  of  that  sort,  one 
must  go  to  the  shops  in  the  small  streets  of  the 
neighbourhood  which  make  a  specialty  of  that 
line  of  business.  And  that  one  may  thor- 
oughly understand  what  is  thus  being  recom- 
mended to  them,  let  me  add  that  in  these  other 
little  shops  most  all  the  stock-in-trade  hangs  on 
pegs  or  nails.  So  when  a  man  enters  the  place 
and  wishes  to  look  at  an  article,  he  must  say, 
"  Decrochez  moi  ga;  "  which  is  the  French  way 


AN  ANCIENT.  ABBEY. 


87 


of  saying,  "  Hand  me  down  that  until  I  have  a 
look  at  it." 

Another  remarkable  monument,  one  even 
more  so  than  the  Temple  of  that  ancient  period, 
was  the  Abbey  and  Church  of  Saint  Germain 
des  Pres.  We  are  informed  by  Gregoire  de 
Tours  that  in  the  year  542,  King  Childebert, 
son  of  the  first  Christian  king  of  France,  made 
war  against  Spain,  and  was  accompanied  on 
this  expedition  by  his  brother  Clotaire.  The 
two  kings  besieged  Saragossa,  and  while  there 
they  came  into  possession  of  the  tunic  of  Saint 
Vincent,  the  martyr,  which  was  carried  to  Paris 
with  grand  pomp  and  ceremony.  Some  while 
afterward  Childebert  resolved  to  build  a  church 
in  which  to  place  this  saintly  relic,  and,  guided 
by  Saint  Germain,  then  Bishop  of  Paris,  the 
site  chosen  was  on  the  ancient  ruins  of  a  tem- 
ple to  Isis,  situate  in  a  meadow  close  to  the 
river.  The  edifice  was  begun  in  556,  and  it 
was  finished  in  two  years.  It  was  so  richly 
decorated  interiorly,  and  presented  so  brilliant 
an  appearance,  that  the  people  called  it  the 
Church  of  Saint  Germain  le  Dore.  Not  con- 
tent with  thus  enriching  the  sanctuary,  Childe- 
bent  settled  revenues  on  it  sufficiently  ample  to 
keep  up  a  community  of  monks,  and  the  place 


88 


PAEIS. 


became  the  Abbey  of  Saint  Vincent.  Later 
the  monastery  and  church  took  on  the  name  of 
the  Bishop,  and  the  ardour  with  which  the  ab- 
bots and  monks  of  Saint  Germain  fought  for 
their  privileges  during  the  twelfth  and  thir- 
teenth centuries,  would,  if  described  here,  form 
a  very  curious  chapter. 

The  original  church  was  seriously  injured  by 
the  Normans  in  the  ninth  century,  nor  was  it  en- 
tirely reconstructed  until  in  1163.  The  Abbey, 
fortified  by  orders  of  Charles  V,  next  took 
on  the  appearance  of  a  citadel,  its  walls  being 
flanked  with  towers  and  surrounded  by  deep 
moats.  To  the  east  and  to  the  west  of  these 
wide  ditches  stretched  a  large  meadow  and  it 
was  from  these  lands  that  the  Abbey  took  the 
name  of  Saint  Germain  des  Pres.1  The  moats 
already  mentioned  got  their  water  from  the 
river  through  a  canal  called  la  petite  Seine 
and  this  artificial  stream  also  cut  this  wide 
meadow  land  into  two  unequal  parts,  thus 
tracing  the  line  of  demarcation  between  the 
property  of  the  University  and  that  of  the 
Abbey.  The  scholars  at  the  University  were 
quarrelsome  young  fellows,  and  were  not  at  all 
willing  to  remain  on  the  grand  pre  as  their 

1  The  French  for  meadow  is  pre ;  Latin,  pretitm. 


THE  PEE  AUX  CLEECS. 


89 


grounds  were  called,  preferring  to  use  the  petit 
pre  of  the  monks  for  their  promenades,  because 
it  was  nearer  the  city  than  their  own.  This 
trespassing  was  not  to  the  liking  of  the 
Brothers,  but  they  would  not  quarrel  over  it, 
and  so  it  came  about  that  the  students  looked 
on  the  Abbey  field  as  their  own  property  and 
they  called  it  le  pre  aux  clercs.1 

This  Pre  aux  Clercs  was  the  meeting-place 
of  all  Protestants  in  Paris  while  Henri  II  was 
on  the  throne,  and  it  was  there  that  the  perse- 
cuted band  proudly  held  their  heads  up  to 
heaven  and  sang  the  Psalm  of  David  which 
Clement  Marot  had  translated  into  French. 
At  another  period  the  Pre  aux  Clercs  was  the 
camp  of  a  part  of  Henri  IV7 s  army  while  he 
was  besieging  Paris  in  1589.  In  November  of 
that  year  the  King  wanting  to  have  a  good 
view  of  the  capital,  ascended  to  the  top  of  the 
belfry  of  the  church  of  Saint  Germain  des  Pres. 
No  one  accompanied  him  except  a  monk  and 
they  were  up  there  some  little  time.  After- 
ward Henri  IV  acknowledged  to  Marshal 
Biron  that  while  he  was  at  the  top  of  the  bell 
tower  he  happened  to  think  of  a  certain  Brother 

Clercs  was  the  name  given  to  all  scholars,  laics,  and 
young  ecclesiastics  in  those  times. 


90 


PARIS, 


Clement  and  his  dagger  1  and  was  afraid  his 
guide  might  attempt  to  murder  him. 

During  the  reign  of  Louis  XIII,  nearly  all 
of  the  moats  about  the  Abbey  and  Church 
were  filled  in,  and  the  canal  of  the  little  Seine 
became  the  Rue  des  Petits  Augustins.  The 
year  1792,  that  great  leveller  of  many  good 
things,  suppressed  the  Abbey  of  Saint  Germain 
des  Pres  ;  but  unhappily  a  gloomy  edifice  which 
had  been  constructed  in  1635  as  a  prison,  under 
the  jurisdiction  of  the  Abbot  of  Saint  Germain,2 
was  not  suppressed.  For  the  celebrity  which 
is  attached  to  the  Abbaye  does  not  date  alone 
from  its  time  as  a  monachal  prison  y  and,  despite 
the  horrible  cachots  within  its  walls,  its  saddest 
hours  were  during  that  "  epoque  de  civilisation 
et  de  lumiere  "  known  in  history  as  the  days 
of  September  2  and  3,  1792. 

There  is  no  need  of  speaking  here  of  the 
men,  drunk  with  blood,  who  made  the  Abbaye 
so  infernal  then.  Marseillais  or  Jacobins,  the 
name  matters  not ;  they  were  the  same  kind  of 
men  who  three  centuries  before  outraged 
unfortunate  women  in  the  streets  of  the  capi- 

1  It  was  a  monk  named  Jacques  Clement  who  assas- 
sinated Henri  III  in  1589. 

2  This  Abbey  prison  was  called  simply  the  Abbaye. 


SCENE  OP  HOEKIBLE  MASSACKES.  91 


tal ;  the  same  kind  of  men  wlio  shrieked  with 
joy  at  the  sight  of  mutilated  Protestants  or 
shouted  in  frenzy  while  heretics  were  burning 
at  the  stake ;  the  same  kind  of  men  who  in  1871 
burned,  destroyed,  and  assassinated.  Yesterday 
it  was  the  Huguenots  whom  they  accused  of 
drinking  the  blood  of  their  own  children ;  to- 
day it  was  the  aristocrats,  the  priests,  the  ene- 
mies of  the  peuple  who  were  charged  with 
crimes  as  unspeakable  as  they  were  untrue. 
The  Abb  aye  became  the  scene  of  one  of  the 
most  horrible  massacres  known  in  history,  and 
the  awful  carnage  ended  with  the  killing  of 
the  Swiss  guards  of  Louis  XVI,  who  had  dared 
to  defend  themselves  and  their  charge  against 
a  wild  mob  the  month  before. 


CHAPTEK  VI. 


Looking  backwards  at  the  Paris  of  long  ago — Palace 
of  the  Bishops  and  its  donjon — The  Church  of  the 
Innocents  —  England's  march  on  the  Capital  — 
The  Maid  of  Orleans  wounded  in  battle — Treason 
inside  the  city  walls — The  horrors  of  famine — 
Church  and  tower  of  Saint  Jacques — A  fine  ex- 
ample of  Gothic  architecture — New  headquarters 
of  a  scientific  society — Liberality  of  a  rich  scriv- 
ener— Once  a  bad,  but  now  a  beautiful  neighbour- 
hood— A  bronze  column  in  Napoleon's  honour — 
The  theatre  of  Sarah  Bernhardt. 

If  in  thought  we  again  hark  back  "  aux 
temps  de  Saint  Louis/'  and  mount  to  the  top  of 
one  of  the  towers  of  Notre  Dame,  we  may  look 
over  the  city  as  it  was  in  the  Mediaeval  Ages. 
Paris  was  then  divided  by  the  Eiver  Seine  into 
three  distinct  parts ;  it  was  as  if  three  cities 
were  in  a  single  city.  Here  in  the  centre  lies 
the  Cite,  the  heart  of  the  capital ;  there  is  the 
Palais  des  Justice;  the  great  Cathedral  is 
under  our  very  feet.  To  the  north  stretches 
out  the  commercial  and  working  ville,  as  it  was 
once  called,  the  large  quartier  of  the  hour- 
geoise,  the  quartier  of  the  markets  and  slaugh- 


AS  m  MEDIAEVAL  AGES. 


93 


ter-houses.  Further  off  to  the  south  stands  the 
University,  the  city  of  schools  and  scholars, 
half  laic,  half  ecclesiastical,  a  pedantic  and  a 
turbulent  city,  a  city  of  noise  and  of  study,  of 
churches  and  of  taverns. 

The  real  Cite,  the  oldest  part  of  town,  lies 
between  these  other  cities,  as  if  to  preserve  the 
peace  in  Paris :  for  the  Latin  city  hates  the 
bourgeoise  city,  and  vice  versa. 

Here  and  there  we  see  large  mansions  and 
splendid  gardens  reaching  down  to  the  river's 
banks.  Almost  directly  below  us,  on  the 
north,  are  the  cloisters  of  the  Cathedral,  and 
on  the  south  is  the  Eveche  edging  the  River 
Seine.  It  is  a  fine,  large  building,  this  Palace 
of  the  Bishops,  with  its  chapel  and  its  donjon, 
its  ogives  and  creneatix,  half  church,  half  fort- 
ress, as  becomes  a  great  lord  and  a  great  priest. 
Yonder  is  the  palace  where  so  many  kings 
reside  when  in  Paris,  and  near  it  is  the  marvel- 
lous Sainte  Chapelle.  Those  distant  trees  half 
hidden  by  towers  are  in  the  garden  of  the  king. 
More  than  twenty  churches  are  in  sight,  some 
very  old,  some  quite  new,  and  all  are  richly 
built. 

Over  on  the  left  side  of  the  river  we  see  the 
Abbey  of  Sainte  Genevieve,  which  dominates 


94 


PARIS. 


the  high  hill  of  that  name.1  Towards  the  east 
is  the  Abbey  of  Saint  Victor ;  toward  the  west 
the  village  of  Saint  Germain  des  Pres,  grouped 
around  its  Abbey,  enclosed  with  a  wall  and  de- 
fended by  a  wide  ditch.  Further  on  in  that 
direction  is  a  large  expanse  of  prairie,  called 
the  Pre  aux  Clercs,2  where  on  many  occasions 
the  students  of  the  Latin  city  have  rioted  in 
fights  or  had  their  duels.  In  front  of  us,  on 
the  right  side  of  the  river,  looms  up  the 
Louvre.  Yonder  are  the  markets,  and  there 
the  Church  of  the  Innocents,  with  its  fine  ceme- 
tery in  which  we  can  see  a  small  edifice  shaped 
like  a  tower — the  lanterne  des  morts,  the  lamp 
in  which  is  lit  every  night.  Further  toward 
the  east  on  the  same  side,  is  the  sinister  Place 
de  Greve3  with  its  many  terrible  souvenirs  of 
rope  and  axe.  In  the  east  we  see  the  Temple, 
while  far  away  to  the  north  we  catch  a  glimpse 
of  the  Chateau  of  Vincennes  in  the  midst  of  a 
thick  forest. 

1Now  the  site  of  the  Pantheon. 

2  To-day  this  land  is  covered  by  the  Chamber  of  Dep- 
uties, the  residence  of  "  Mr.  Speaker/'  and  the  Foreign 
Office. 

3  The  Hotel  de  Ville  or  City  Hall  stands  on  this 
place  now. 


THE  DEATH  OF  CHIVALEY, 


95 


These  things  are  but  the  striking  landmarks, 
though  amidst  a  multitude  of  housetops  we  may 
also  make  out  the  Grand  Ch&telet,  numerous 
church  steeples  and,  on  almost  every  hillock, 
the  wings  of  windmills.  One,  two,  three,  why, 
there  are  no  fewer  than  twenty  on  Montmartre 
alone.1 

Now  let  us  suppose  that  a  century  and  more 
has  passed  since  we  began  to  gaze  down  on 
Paris  from  the  bell  tower  of  Notre  Dame. 
During  this  interval  the  disaster  to  the  Tem- 
plars has  occurred,  the  mighty  power  of  the 
Pope  has  been  much  restrained.  Indeed  there 
has  been  an  immense  debacle  of  most  things 
that  were  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  first  in  im- 
portance of  all  these  was  the  death  of  enthusi- 
astic faith,  of  that  faith  which  had  impelled 
the  Crusades,  and  which  died  with  Saint 
Louis.  Next  was  the  death  of  the  great  feudal 
power,  the  glory  of  chivalry,  which  expired  at 
Courtrai,  at  Crecy,  and  at  Poitiers.  Finally 
there  was  the  death  of  that  liberty  which  cre- 
ated communes,  and  which  was  strangled  by 
royalty.     Upon  all  the  ruins  only  one  thing 

1  There  is  even  one  to-day  upon  the  hill  of  Mont- 
martre, 


96 


PARIS. 


grew  strong ;  it  was  Royal  power.  The  first 
result  of  which  was  to  deliver  over  all  in  block 
to  the  foreigner,  for  almost  immediately  the 
English  marched  on  Paris.  Remember  that 
after  the  battle  of  Poitiers,  King  John  was 
prisoner  to  the  English,  as  were  all  the  French 
nobility.  There  was  no  longer  any  army  or 
any  treasury.  The  poor  peasants,  the  J acques, 
as  they  were  termed,  were  merely  a  flock  of 
sheep  without  guardian,  and  worse  than  slaves 
in  their  misery.  The  country  was  overrun  by 
the  English,  and  towns  were  being  ravaged. 
No  one  worked  in  the  fields,  no  one  sowed 
grain,  there  were  hardly  any  harvests. 

Happily,  however,  the  inhabitants  of  Paris 
were  more  active,  more  intelligent,  more  deter- 
mined than  the  people  of  the  provinces,  and  if 
the  Provincials  had  followed  the  Parisians,  the 
foreigners  would  soon  have  been  driven  away 
from  France.  But  no,  they  abandoned  the 
capital  to  its  fate,  even  as  they  refused  to 
struggle  for  their  own  existence.  The  capital 
was  now  a  city  of  250,000  souls,  and  it  was 
decided  that  the  ramparts  of  Philippe  Augustus 
should  be  repaired  and  strengthened,  and  a 
new  wall  built  around  that  part  of  town  still 
exposed  to  attack  north  of  the  river.  The 


THE  ENGLISH  OCCUPATION.  97 


work  was  begun  at  once  and  continued  night 
and  day ;  the  new  wall  was  over  three  miles 
long,  or  nearly  double  the  length  of  the  one 
that  it  replaced.  Moreover  the  wall  and  towers 
were  much  stouter,  and  when  the  work  was 
finished  the  people  were  ready  for  their  enemy. 
But  the  English  remained  at  a  safe  distance, 
for  some  time  at  any  rate;  and  indeed  the 
city  never  was  regularly  besieged  by  them.  It 
was  surrendered  in  a  treacherous  or  coward- 
ly fashion,  and  Etienne  Marcel  was  charged 
with  the  crime  of  seeking  to  put  Charles  the 
Bad,  an  ally  of  England,  in  possession  of  the 
place,  for  which  treason  he  was  killed  by  Jean 
Maillard. 

We  have  now  reached  the  period  when  the 
English  were  in  Paris.  A  King  of  England 
enthroned  himself  in  the  Louvre  and  he  was 
crowned  at  Notre  Dame  as  King  of  France. 
The  church,  in  the  name  of  God,  recognised  the 
enemy  as  legitimate  authority;  and  while  in 
the  midst  of  this  captivity  the  Parisians  inven- 
ted and  amused  themselves  with  that  infamous 
sport  known  in  history  as  the  Danse  Macabre. 
Then  came  a  French  army  led  by  the  valiant 
Pucelle,  Jeanne  d'Arc  of  glorious  and  saintly 
memory.    The  attempt  of  the  Royal  force  to 


98 


PARIS. 


take  the  capital  was  made  near  a  gate  in  the 
wall  then  standing  at  what  is  now  the  corner  of 
the  Rue  Royale  and  the  Rue  Faubourg  Saint 
Honore.  The  Maid  was  wounded  in  the  as- 
sault, her  army  was  repulsed,  and  Paris  re- 
mained in  the  keeping  of  the  English  for  six 
years  more. 

The  English  were  numerous  and  well  armed, 
hence  they  could  hold  the  city  against  French 
troops,  but  they  could  not  defend  themselves 
from  an  enraged  populace.  Time  after  time 
there  were  battles  in  the  streets ;  from  rue  to 
rue,  from  house  to  house  the  bourgeois  fought 
the  foreigner,  finally  drove  them  out,  and  again 
Paris  belonged  to  France. 

But  the  horrors  of  war  were  soon  followed 
by  famine,  and  awhile  later  the  capital  was 
plague  stricken.  More  than  fifty  thousand  of 
its  inhabitants  perished  in  a  very  short  time, 
and  wolves  ran  wild  in  the  streets,  feeding  on 
the  dead  or  devouring  children  and  women. 
Paris,  thus  cruelly  ill-treated  during  the  reign 
of  Louis  XI,  still  lived,  however.  It  took  al- 
most half  a  century  of  time  to  recuperate,  but 
under  Charles  VIII,  and  under  Louis  XII,  the 
roi  bonhomme  as  he  was  called,  it  began  to 
grow  and  to  gain  strength  once  more. 


TOWER  AND  GARDEN  OF  SAINT  JACQUES. 


LIGHT  OP  THE  KENAISSANCE. 


99 


The  second  Middle  Age,  shadow  of  the  first, 
the  real  moyenage  of  Charlemagne  and  of  the 
Crusades,  died,  or  rather  faded  away,  and  the 
light  of  the  Renaissance  appeared.  Printing 
and  the  new  world  were  discovered,  the  real 
structure  of  the  universe  was  disclosed,  a  second 
Gothic  art,  the  one  which  succeeded  to  that  of 
the  thirteenth  century,  made  its  appearance. 

Half  way  between  the  Hotel  de  Ville  and 
Louvre,  in  a  small  park  or  garden  and  among 
trees,  shrubbery,  and  beautiful,  flowers,  stands 
the  high  old  tower  of  Saint  Jacques,  a  gigantic 
monument  to  mark  the  geographical  centre  of 
the  capital.  It  is  one  of  the  most  precious 
relics  of  old  Paris  in  existence,  as  it  also  is  one 
of  the  most  striking  and  picturesque  monuments 
in  the  world.  A  splendid  view  may  be  had 
from  the  broad  platform  at  its  top,  one  well 
worth  the  climbing  of  tiresome  and  winding 
stairs.  This  tower  is  one  of  the  most  elegant 
in  existence,  for  it  is  richly  dressed  with  fine 
sculptures,  royally  embroidered  with  splendid 
niches  and  carved  flowers.  Though  not  so  high 
as  the  towers  of  Notre  Dame, 1  at  first  glance 

i  The  Tour  Saint  Jacques  has  a  height  of  178  feet  ; 
the  towers  of  Notre  Dame  are  212  feet  high. 


100 


PAEIS. 


one  is  apt  to  think  it  is  much  taller ;  the  reason 
for  this  is  its  isolation,  or  perhaps  because  the 
structure  is  not  so  thick  and  broad.  In  other 
times  this  was  the  bell  tower  of  the  church-  of 
Saint  Jacques  la  Boucherie,  which  long  since 
disappeared  from  view. 

Take  this  tower  as  an  example  of  the  Gothic 
architecture  in  its  last  period,  that  is  to  say, 
during  the  fifteenth  century,  although  it  was 
really  built  in  1508,  and  if  you  would  like  to 
continue  the  comparison,  study  it  well;  then 
study  one  of  the  towers  of  Notre.  Dame,  if  you 
would  judge  the  difference  and  measure  the 
progress  made  by  Gothic  art  during  an  interval 
of  two  centuries.  The  majestic  tower  of  the 
Cathedral  has  something  that  is  very  heavy  in 
its  appearance,  while  that  of  Saint  Jacques  is 
fine,  svelte,  and  without  those  large  proportions 
which  stamps  the  other.  Observe  how  the 
tower  of  Notre  Dame  is  cut  at  different  heights 
by  three  or  four  great  horizontal  lines  that  are 
very  prominent  and  marked  in  the  structure, 
and  which  divide  the  tower  into  three  stories, 
so  to  speak.  There  is  nothing  of  this  kind  in 
the  Tour  Saint  Jacques.  All  its  lines  are  ver- 
tical ;  all  its  buttresses,  its  windows,  its  small 
columns,  its  arcatures — all  these  things  go  up, 


THE  TOUK  ST.  JACQUES. 


101 


file  en  haut,  as  French  architects  say.  Even 
the  teraiinal  line  of  the  corniche  at  the  level  of 
the  top  platform  appears  as  if  broken  by  the  four 
pinnacles  which  support  a  statue  of  the  Saint  and 
some  gigantic  animals.  There  (Notre  Dame) 
the  openings  are  wide  and  the  ogives  obtuse  ; 
here  (Saint  Jacques)  the  windows  are  exces- 
sively narrow,  the  small  arcades  inordinately 
lengthened.  The  comparisons  could  be  carried 
on  much  farther,  but  perhaps  enough  has  been 
said  to  induce  the  reader  to  study  these  two 
types  of  Gothic  architecture  for  himself  when 
he  finds  it  possible  to  do  so. 

A  winding  flight  of  stone  steps,  lighted  here 
and  there  with  a  small  window  pierced  through 
the  thick  walls,  lead  to  the  summit  and  from  a 
platform  one  may  look  over  a  splendid  pano- 
rama of  town  and  country.  This  monument  of 
ancient  Paris,  so  artistically  restored,  so  care- 
fully preserved,  is  not  only  a  thing  of  beauty 
in  itself  but  it  also  is  of  great  utility  to 
French  scientists.  Since  1885  it  has  been  the 
headquarters  of  the  Laboratory  of  Physical 
Studies,  an  institution  founded  for  the  purpose 
of  studying  experimentally  such  things  as  dif- 
ferences of  temperature  and  barometric  pressure 
at  different  heights  and  their  influence  on  men, 


102  PARIS. 

animals  and  plants ;  the  formation  of  mists,  fogs, 
rain,  snow,  etc. ;  the  extreme  limits  of  vision  in 
the  atmosphere  of  a  city  like  Paris  ;  the  oscilla- 
tion of  its  soil,  and  so  on. 

As  far  back  as  1212,  when  the  tower  was 
doing  duty  as  the  bell  steeple  of  the  church  of 
Saint  Jacques  la  Boucherie,  a  Norman  surgeon 
named  Pitard  was  permitted  to  deliver  lectures 
in  the  nave  of  the  edifice.  It  was  also  in  the 
shadow  of  this  church  that  a  public  scrivener 
named  Nicolas  Flamel  amassed  a  large  fortune. 
When  he  came  up  to  Paris  from  his  native  vil- 
lage, a  very  poor  man,  few  persons  except  the 
members  of  the  liberal  professions  knew  how 
to  read  and  write. 

Flamel  opened  a  scrivener's  office  in  a  frame 
shanty  that  stood  against  the  base  of  this  tower, 
where  he  prospered  so  well  that  before  his 
death  in  1417  he  had  built  a  new  portal  for  the 
church,  had  founded  a  large  hospital,  and  had 
contributed  liberally  toward  the  erection  of  no 
fewer  than  thirty-seven  churches,  yet  he  never 
quit  his  frame  shanty.  When  his  wife,  Pernelle, 
died,  he  erected  a  splendid  monumemt  to  her 
memory  inside  the  church.  The  inscription 
slab  of  her  tomb  is  now  in  the  Cluny  Museum, 
it  having  been  accidentally  discovered  by  an 


THE  CHURCH  OF  SAINT  JACQUES.  103 


antiquarian  some  eighteen  years  ago  in  a  green- 
grocer's shop,  where  it  was  doing  duty  as  a 
marble  top  for  the  counter  on  which  he  was 
selling  beets,  carrots,  and  cabbages. 

During  the  Revolution,  when  the  church, 
which  had  for  a  while  been  used  as  the  meeting 
place  of  a  Republican  club,  was  sold  at  auction, 
a  condition  was  inserted  in  the  deed,  forbidding 
the  purchaser  from  pulling  down  or  demolish- 
ing the  tall  tower.  The  purchaser  made  of  it 
a  shot  factory,  while  a  second-hand  clothes 
market  was  opened  in  the  courtyard  where  it 
stood,  and  the  tower  was  rapidly  becoming  a 
ruin  when  the  city  purchased  it  in  1836.  The 
price  paid  was  $50,000 ;  fifteen  years  afterward 
something  like  $200,000  more  were  spent  in 
restoring  the  pile,  and  later  on  the  pretty  little 
garden  that  surrounds  it  was  laid  out. 

As  for  the  church,  which  was  pulled  down 
in  1793,  there  is  considerable  contradiction 
among  historians  and  Paris  antiquarians  con- 
cerning its  origin.  The  oldest  tradition  is  that 
the  first  church  was  built  along  about  the  year 
700,  on  the  site  of  a  chapel  dedicated  to  Saint 
Anne,  but  later  authorities  fix  the  year  1200  as 
the  probable  date  of  its  erection.  It  got  its 
name  from  the  largest  and  oldest  slaughter- 


104 


PARIS. 


house  in  Paris,  that  stood  just  here,  though  it 
was  once  far  outside  the  city  limits. 

The  church  was  altered  and  rebuilt  several 
times,  the  edifice  which  was  pulled  down  by  the 
Revolutionists  having  been  constructed  during 
the  reign  of  Frangois  Premier.  Originally 
there  was  no  tower,  but  in  1508  the  erection  of 
the  present  one  was  commenced,  and  full  re- 
cords of  the  progress  of  the  work  and  its  cost 
in  detail  are  in  existence.  When  completed  the 
tower  was  crowned  by  a  stone  statue  of  Saint 
James,  which  stood  twenty  feet  high.  Inside 
hung  a  chime  of  twelve  bells,  and  these  during 
the  Revolution  were  sent  to  the  Mint,  where 
they  were  melted  up  and  made  into  copper  coin. 

Many  illustrious  persons  were  buried  in  the 
vaults  of  this  church,  and  at  one  time  it  en- 
joyed the  privilege  of  being  a  civil  sanctuary 
or  place  of  refuge  against  arrest.  There  were 
only  six  other  churches  then  in  France  which 
possessed  this  privilege. 

That  quarter  of  the  capital  used  to  be  a  bad 
neighbourhood.  Even  down  to  the  time  when 
Baron  Haussmann  began  carrying  out  Louis 
Napoleon's  plan  of  giving  air  and  light  and 
health  to  Paris  it  was  a  network  of  narrow 
streets  and  blind  alleys,  the  abode  of  the  worst 


THE  PLACE  DU  CHATELET.  105 


class  of  citizens ;  but  now  the  entire  neighbour- 
hood is  beautiful.  The  garden  is  bounded  on 
three  sides  by  fine  streets,  and  on  the  fourth  by 
the  Boulevard  de  Sebastopol,  one  of  the  largest 
avenues  in  the  capital.  Across  this  boulevard 
is  the  Place  du  Chatelet,  a  lovely  square  that 
takes  its  name  from  the  fortress  of  the  Grand 
Chatelet  already  mentioned  in  this  work.  It 
was  a  dirty,  foul-smelling  square  until  Napo- 
leon I  had  it  cleansed  and  beautified ;  now  it 
is  a  very  handsome  place.  On  one  side  of  it 
runs  the  Seine ;  on  another  stands  the  CMtelet 
Theatre  where  only  spectacular  pieces  are  pro- 
duced; on  a  third  stands  a  theatre  which  is 
owned  by  the  city.  It  was  used  for  several 
years  as  an  Italian  opera  house ;  and  it  was  here 
that  Miss  Emma  Nevada  made  her  debut,  as 
did  Madam  Calve  also.  When  the  Opera  Com- 
ique,  near  the  Boulevard  des  Italiens,  was 
burned  down,  that  State  troupe  occupied  this 
theatre  in  the  Place  du  Chatelet  and  remained 
there  until  their  own  house  was  rebuilt.  It 
is  now  rented  by  Madame  Bernhardt,  the  emi- 
nent actress.  In  the  centre  of  the  square  is  a 
large  fountain,  also  a  bronze  column  which  was 
erected  to  commemorate  the  glorious  victories 
of  Napoleon's  armies. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


The  Capital  and  le  roi  gallant — Numerous  changes 
in  the  faubourgs — Construction  of  the  boulevard 
and  of  the  bridge  called  Pont  Neuf — Curious  his- 
tory of  the  Palais  Eoyal — A  palace  long  since 
abandoned  by  princes — Meeting  place  of  dissolute 
men  and  women — Once  the  fashionable  centre  of 
Paris,  now  a  rather  gloomy  spot — The  Hotel  de 
Cluny — A  magnificent  museum  of  archeological 
relics — Some  precious  crowns  of  the  Merovingian 
Kings — The  exquisite  architecture  of  an  old  man- 
sion— A  queen's  vengeance — Quaint  and  historical 
houses — The  long-time  home  of  witty  Mme.  de 
Sevigne,  now  known  as  the  Carnavalet  museum. 

The  reign  of  Henri  IV  was  a  splendid 
period  in  the  history  of  Paris.  Ever  since  the 
time  of  Charles  VI  the  city  had  been  losing 
little  by  little  its  Gothic  aspect  while  taking 
on  that  of  a  modern  city.  There  are  certain 
old  quarters  of  the  capital,  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  the  Rue  Saint  Martin  and  the  Rue 
Saint  Denis,  for  instance,  which  still  give  us  an 
idea  of  the  physiognomy  that  the  ensemble 
offered  under  le  roi  gallant.    With  all  his  de- 


CHANGES  IN  THE  FAUBOURGS.  107 


fects,  even  with  all  Iris  vices,  Henri  IV  was  a 
man,  and,  rare  thing  for  French,  kings,  he 
loved  Paris.  So,  too,  did  Francis  Miron,  his 
Prevot,  and  Sully,  his  Minister. 

During  Henri's  reign  the  old  houses  with 
overhanging  upper  stories  began  to  disappear, 
and  builders  commenced  covering  roofs  with 
slates  instead  of  tiles.  No  great  change  was 
noticeable  in  the  general  appearance  of  the 
Cite,  however ;  the  Cathedral,  the  Eveche,  the 
Cloister,  all  the  other  public  places  were  as 
they  had  always  been,  and  the  old  palace  itself 
was  pretty  much  the  same  as  ever.  Some  few 
changes  were  made  in  the  University,  but  none 
of  grave  importance.  A  few  new  mansions,  a 
few  new  convents,  two  or  three  new  streets, 
these  were  about  all  the  novelties  of  the  old 
Cite. 

But  changes  in  the  faubourgs  were  numer- 
ous, and  as  these  kept  on  increasing  in  popula- 
tion, walls  to  protect  them  were  found  necessary. 
So  Henri  IV  increased  the  size  and  length  of 
the  new  ramparts  which  Francois  Premier  had 
started,  and  the  Faubourg  Montmartre,  the 
Faubourg  Saint  Honore  and  the  Tuileries  gar- 
den were  soon  within  the  walls.  While  con- 
structing these  defences  large  quantities  of 


108 


PARIS. 


earth  were  dug  up ;  this  dirt  was  levelled 
and  sown  with  grass  seed,  and  in  the  act  of 
fortification  these  new-made  lands  bore  the 
name  of  boulevards.  When  the  defences  were 
no  longer  required,  and  when  they  were  de- 
molished, the  large  surface  which  they  had 
occupied  was  thrown  open  to  circulation,  public 
promenades  and  wide  streets  being  constructed 
by  the  city.  But  while  changing  their  destina- 
tion they  preserved  their  old  name,  and  from 
this  we  get  the  modern  boulevards  that  extend 
from  the  Place  de  la  Bastille  westward  to  the 
Madeleine.  As  the  exterior  defences  of  Paris 
in  the  time  of  Henri  IV,  that  is  to  say,  those 
on  the  right  side  of  the  river,  followed  almost 
exactly  the  course  of  the  present  grand  boule- 
vards, we  are  able  to  judge  how  vast  the 
difference  in  the  size  of  the  capital  between 
then  and  now. 

One  of  the  great  works  of  that  period  was 
the  finishing  of  a  bridge  across  the  Seine, 
known  as  the  Pont  JSTeuf.  Begun  in  1573,  and 
finished  in  1603,  by  Henri  IV,  the  Pont  JNTeuf 
is  actually  the  oldest  bridge  in  Paris.  It  is 
also  the  longest,  crossing  two  branches  of  the 
stream,  though  close  to  a  point  near  where  they 
come  together  again.    At  this  extreme  point  of 


THE  "PAVILLON"  HENEI  IV."  109 


the  island,  and  close  to  this  bridge,  stands  the 
celebrated  equestrian  statue  of  Henri  IV,  placed 
there  by  Louis  XIII.  The  Pont  JNTeuf  has  been 
admired,  sung  of,  and  celebrated  ever  since  it 
was  constructed,  at  which  time  it  was  the  great- 
est of  the  six  or  seven  that  led  out  from  the  Cite, 
to  the  north  or  to  the  south. 

King  Henri  IV  also  had  a  great  deal  of 
work  done  on  the  quays,  and  he  increased  the 
size  of  the  Louvre.  He  put  another  story  on 
one  side  of  the  building,  since  when  it  has 
borne  the  name  of  "  Pavilion  Henri  IV."  At 
the  same  time,  and  with  the  intention  of  joining 
the  Louvre  to  the  Tuileries,  he  lengthened  the 
interminable  gallery  alongside  the  river  the 
which  is  now  so  remarkable  for  its  elegant 
style  and  delicate  sculptures.  But  to  carry 
out  this  intention  it  was  not  sufficient  to 
lengthen  the  Louvre,  it  was  also  necessary  to 
extend  the  southern  wing  of  the  Tuileries,  and 
this  he  also  set  about.  His  desire  was  to  establish 
in  these  new  buildings  a  museum  of  industry 
and  the  arts,  as  well  as  lodgings  for  artists  and 
inventors.  This  was  perhaps  the  first  time  in 
the  history  of  the  world  that  a  king  ever 
thought  of  sharing  his  palace  with  the  people, 
or  was  willing  to  sleep  workingmen  under  his 


110 


PAK1S. 


own  roof.  But  death  earned  him  off  before 
the  work  was  finished,  and  so  his  good  inten- 
tions were  never  carried  out ;  for  Louis  XIII 
and  Louis  XIV,  instead  of  completing  the  plan, 
could  think  of  nothing  better  than  to  put  as 
wide  an  abyss  as  possible  between  themselves 
and  their  subjects. 

Henri  IV  also  finished  the  Hotel  de  Ville 
that  Frangois  I  had  begun.  In  brief,  Henri 
was  a  great  builder,  and  he  built  for  France 
and  Paris,  while  his  successor  built  for  himself 
alone. 

It  was  to  obey  the  whims  of  a  queen,  and 
not  to  beautify  the  capital,  that  Louis  XIII  had 
the  Luxembourg  constructed,  which  by  its 
architecture  recalled  the  palace  of  the  Medicis 
at  Florence ;  and  it  was  that  same  king  who 
permitted  Richelieu  to  erect  the  Palais  Cardi- 
nal, which  has  been  called  the  Palais  Royal 
ever  since  that  Minister  bequeathed  it  to  the 
King.  A  palace  long  since  abandoned  by 
princes;  galleries  and  passages  lined  with 
restaurants,  jewelry  stores,  cheap  John  shops, 
and  bookstalls ;  arcades  where  the  gallantries 
and  vices  of  former  centuries  are  replaced  by 
the  most  depraved  actions  of  modern  times ; 
neglected   promenades,    foliage    not  always* 


THE  FAMOUS  PALAIS  EOYAL. 


Ill 


green,  fountains  that  seldom  pour  forth  their 
waters,  a  spot  given  over  to  the  children 
of  the  lower  classes,  a  romping  place  for 
Paris  gamins, — such  is  now  the  famous  Pal- 
ais Royal.  Over  its  front  might  be  written, 
"This  was  Paris;  now  it  is  only  a  country 
garden." 

And  yet  these  gardens  and  galleries  have 
been  the  theatre  of  a  great  many  important 
events  in  French  history.  In  it  power  once 
dwelt  that  was  long  in  open  rivalry  with  the 
ruling  sovereign,  and  in  it  the  great  Revolution 
of  1789  began.  Pleasure,  vice,  dissipation,  in- 
dustry, have  all  flourished  within  its  limits; 
and  prodigalities,  miseries,  and  curious  con- 
trasts have  jostled  each  other  under  arcades 
that  once  were  the  hell  and  the  paradise  of 
Parisians. 

The  palace  cost  Richelieu  a  great  deal  of 
money,  but  he  did  not  care  for  that ;  he  even 
paid  out  an  additional  large  sum  for  the  Hotel 
de  Sillery  alongside,  then  pulled  it  down  so  as 
to  have  a  public  square  in  front  of  his  own 
door.  Thence  he  laid  out  the  Rue  Richelieu, 
so  as  to  have  a  straight  road  from  his  town- 
house  to  his  farm  of  La  Grange-Bateliere.  I 
have  read  at  the  National  Library  in  Paris 


112 


PAKIS. 


some  pompous  descriptions  of  a  fSte  which  the 
Cardinal  gave  in  honour  of  the  betrothal  of  his 
niece,  Claire  Clemence  de  Maile,  with  that 
Duke  d'Enghien  who  subsequently  became 
known  in  history  as  "  le  grand  Conde"  and  its 
magnificence  seems  to  have  exceeded  every- 
thing that  had  previously  been  attempted  in 
that  line.  First  of  all,  there  was  a  play,  after 
that  a  banquet,  where  the  dishes  were  handed 
around  by  fifty-two  pages,  and  then  there  was 
a  splendid  ball.  The  Queen  was  carried  to  a 
throne  on  a  golden  car,  drawn  by  a  pair  of 
peacocks,  and  as  soon  as  she  gave  the  signal 
dancing  began. 

After  Richelieu's  death  the  place  became 
the  property  of  Louis  XIII,  and  when,  in 
October,  1643,  Anne  of  Austria  made  it  her 
habitation,  it  became  known  as  the  Palais 
Royal.  After  his  majority,  Louis  XIV  always 
stayed  in  it  when  in  Paris,  preferring  it  to  the 
Louvre,  his  official  residence.  When  Henrietta 
Maria,  wife  of  Charles  I  of  England,  arrived 
in  France,  after  her  husband's  execution,  the 
Palais  Royal  was  assigned  her  for  residence, 
and  she  occupied  it  until  1661,  at  which  date 
it  became  the  residence  of  "Monsieur,"  the 
brother  of  Louis  XIV,  to  whom  it  was  made 


SCENES  OF  LUXUKY  AND  SHAME  113 


a  present  a  few  years  afterward.  At  his  death 
the  palace  became  the  property  of  his  son, 
Philippe  d'Orleans,  Duke  de  Chart-res,  who, 
however,  did  not  take  up  his  abode  there  until 
he  became  Regent  of  France  during  Louis  XV's 
minority. 

With  this  regency  began  a  new  era  of  luxury, 
splendour,  and  tumult  for  the  Palais  Royal, 
and  yet  there  was  very  little  resemblance  be- 
tween his  court  and  that  which  had  surrounded 
Anne  of  Austria.  The  reign  of  Louis  XIV 
and  of  Madame  de  Maintenon  had  just  come  to 
an  end,  courtiers  were  still  full  of  hatred  for 
the  austerity  and  piety  that  characterised  the 
latter  part  of  the  dead  King's  reign,  and 
so  Philippe  hastened  to  make  his  palace  a 
house  of  pleasure.  He  wished  that  the  very 
air  should  have  a  luxurious  and  voluptuous 
flavour,  and  his  intentions  were  ably  seconded 
by  some  of  the  most  dissolute  men  and  women 
that  ever  lived ;  so  that  even  for  a  long  time 
after  "  Monsieur's  "  day  the  Palais  Royal  re- 
tained souvenirs  and  traces  of  a  freedom  of 
manners  such  as  no  other  building  has  perhaps 
ever  witnessed.  Charles  VII  and  Agnes  de 
Sorel,  Francois  I,  with  his  numerous  gallant- 
ries, Henri  II,  Henri   III,  Henri   IV,  and 


114 


PARIS, 


Louis  XIV,  were  all  decent  persons  so  to 
speak,  and  their  amorous  adventures  were 
quite  innocent  as  compared  with  those  of 
Philippe  of  Orleans,  whose  carryings  on  in  the 
Palais  Royal  cannot  possibly  be  described  in 
this  volume.  The  favourites  of  the  Regent 
and  the  noble  ladies  of  the  time  succeeded  in 
surpassing  all  that  imagination  can  suppose  in 
the  way  of  sin  and  shame.  Indeed  the  Palais 
Royal  was  so  deeply  marked  by  the  indecent 
doings  of  the  period  that  it  has  never  been 
able  to  get  entirely  ride  of  those  souvenirs.  It 
was  an  era  of  late  suppers,  bacchanalian 
revels,  shameless  orgies  ;  and  as  much  gold  was 
necessary,  it  was  the  time  when  "  Mississippi " 
Law  appeared  on  the  scene.  Philippe  died 
suddenly,  and  his  son,  when  he  had  tired  of 
the  palace,  went  to  the  Abbey  of  Sainte  Gene- 
vieve. 

In  1763  flames  destroyed  the  Opera  House 
which  Richelieu  had  built,  and  this  furnished 
an  excuse  for  the  complete  restoration  of  the 
Palais  Royal,  the  expenses  thereof  being  paid 
by  the  city  of  Paris.  In  1780  the  Duke  of 
Orleans  gave  the  place  to  his  son,  Louis  Phil- 
ippe Joseph,  and  with  him  the  orgies  were  re- 
sumed.   It  was  he  who  surrounded  the  garden 


THE  COURT  OF  GALLANTRY.  115 


with  the  buildings  which  now  enclose  it  on 
three  sides,  an  act  that  caused  great  dissatis- 
faction to  owners  of  the  neighbouring  property, 
public  opinion  expressing  itself  in  sarcastic  epi- 
grams about  Princes  of  Royal  blood  turning 
palaces  into  shops  and  drinking  places.  It  was 
that  Prince  who  erected  a  small  theatre  at  one 
corner  of  the  place  now  known  as  the  Theatre 
du  Palais  Royal. 

By  1786  the  spot  had  become  the  most  fash- 
ionable centre  of  Paris ;  the  whole  life  of  the 
capital  was  to  be  found  in  and  around  it,  and 
gallantry  and  vice  held  high  court  within  its 
limits.  There  was  a  sort  of  underground  cir- 
cus in  the  centre  of  the  garden  which  was  so 
constructed  as  to  resemble  a  large  green  arbour 
with  a  terrace  at  the  top  where  a  fountain  was 
continually  casting  up  silvery  waters.  Besides 
this  circus  there  was  a  theatre,  while  down  in 
the  cellars  were  dancing  halls.  This  enterprise 
did  not  have  long  existence,  however,  for  in 
the  month  of  November,  1798,  the  building  was 
destroyed  by  fire.  After  that  the  large  rotunda 
of  the  circus  was  vaulted  over,  and  in  1817 
the  circular  fountain  that  is  seen  to-day  was 
constructed  on  the  spot.  The  Palais  Royal 
garden  is  the  scene  where  Camille  Desmoulins 


116 


PAKIS, 


plucked  the  leaf  from  a  tree  that  served  as  the 
first  cockade  of  the  French  Revolution.  Three 
days  afterward  the  people  stormed  the  Bastille. 

The  Palais  Royal  was  confiscated  when  the 
Duke  of  Orleans  was  beheaded,  gambling  houses 
were  opened  on  its  upper  floors,  and  almost  all 
the  lower  ones  were  turned  into  restaurants. 
During  the  Consulate  the  law  courts  held  their 
sessions  at  the  Palais  Royal  for  awhile ;  then, 
by  decree  of  Napoleon  I,  the  property  was 
made  a  part  of  the  crown  domain,  and  the 
Stock  Exchange  was  allowed  to  use  one  of  its 
wings  provisionally.  But  after  the  fall  of  the 
First  Empire  the  property  was  restored  to  the 
son  of  the  Duke  who  had  perished  on  the 
guillotine.  Later  on,  this  son  became  King 
Louis  Philippe. 

After  Waterloo,  the  new  proprietor  devoted 
himself  to  the  embellishment  and  improvement 
of  the  Palais  Royal.  The  galleries  were  still 
the  liveliest  place  in  Paris.  Its  shops  had  a 
world-wide  reputation,  and  provincials  as  well 
as  foreigners  from  everywhere  flocked  to  the 
Palais  Royal  as  to  one  of  the  wonders  of  this 
world.  Not  only  was  the  reputation  for  splen- 
dour enjoyed  by  its  shops  fully  deserved,  but 
the  palace  and  its  garden  were  the  centre  of 


BEGINNING  OF  ITS  DECADENCE.  117 


many  pleasures.  Its  restaurants  were  con- 
sidered,  and  justly  so,  the  best  in  Europe.  The 
cooks  were  artistes,  their  cellars  contained  the 
finest  wines,  while  good  taste  and  prompt  service 
increased  their  celebrity.  At  that  time  the 
Palais  Royal  was  not  only  the  centre  of  Paris, 
it  was  also  the  centre  of  civilised  Europe.  It 
was  an  immense  and  opulent  bazaar,  an  ever- 
open  harem,  a  capharnaiim  of  dissipation 
where  everything  attracted  and  to  which  every- 
body went.  The  Duke  of  Orleans  drew  colos- 
sal income  from  his  rents,  he  managed  his  prop- 
erty judiciously  and  kept  it  in  excellent 
repair. 

During  the  fighting  of  July,  1830,  the  Palais 
Royal  remained  deserted,  but  on  the  third  day 
of  that  revolution  a  serious  encounter  between 
the  people  and  the  troops  took  place  in  front 
of  it.  Victory  over  the  Bourbons  was  finally 
won,  the  Palais  Royal  became  the  headquarters 
for  a  new  monarchy  for  a  short  while,  and  its 
gardens  were  traversed  daily  by  deputations 
on  their  way  to  cheer  the  Citizen  King.  The 
first  act  of  the  July  monarchy  was  to  abolish 
public  gambling,  whereupon  the  people  com- 
menced to  desert  the  Palais  Royal,  and  that 
was  the  beginning  of  its  decadence.    It  is  now 


118 


PARIS. 


very  little  more  than  a  gloomy,  old-fashioned 
lot  of  buildings  surrounding  a  large  square. 
All  but  one,  perhaps  two,  of  its  famous  restau- 
rants have  gone  their  way,  but  any  number  of 
cheap  eating  places  are  yet  to  be  found  within 
its  buildings.  Its  shops  no  longer  attract  fash- 
ionable people  to  their  counters,  and  although 
there  are  a  few  fine  stores  still  within  the  place 
these  do  very  little  business  now.  In  the  day- 
time the  Palais  Royal  is  infested  by  tourists, 
wet-nurses  and  little  children.  At  night  it  is 
dark,  silent,  and  deserted.  It  is  still  beautiful 
in  its  way,  but  it  reminds  one  of  an  old  liber- 
tine who  has  reformed,  and  who,  though  virtu- 
ous now,  seems  bored  to  death. 

Another  structure  of  that  period  in  the 
history  of  Paris  which  deserves  our  notice  is  the 
elegant  mansion  known  as  the  Hotel  de  Cluny. 
Mention  has  already  been  made  of  the  Palais 
des  Thermes  which  was  occupied  by  the  Frank- 
ish  Kings  down  to  the  end  of  the  tenth  cen- 
tury. When  the  Capets  constructed  a  new 
royal  palace  the  old  Roman  building  quickly 
saw  a  change  in  its  destiny,  and  it  was  in  a  bad 
condition  when  Philippe  Augustus  made  it  a 
present  to  one  of  his  chamberlains  in  1218.  It 
remained  in  that  nobleman's  family  until  the 


OLD  HOTEL  DE  SENS, 


THE  HOTEL  DE  CLUNY. 


119 


middle  of  the  fourteenth  century,  when  Pierre 
de  Chalus,  Abbot  of  Cluny,  purchased  it 
and  the  surrounding  lands.  The  Abbot's  idea 
was  to  construct  a  residence  near  the  college 
which  his  Order  owned  close  by  the  Sorbonne 
so  that  the  monks  of  Cluny  might  lodge  there 
when  in  Paris.  That  plan  was  not  carried  out, 
however,  and  it  was  during  the  reign  of  Charles 
VIII  that  Jean  de  Bourbon  undertook  to  build 
the  house  we  now  admire.  He  did  not  accom- 
plish the  work,  and  the  Hotel  de  Cluny  was  only 
finished  toward  the  close  of  the  reign  of  Charles 
VIII,  and  then  by  Jacques  d'Amboise,  Abbot 
of  Jumieges.  Since  then  it  has  been  in  turn 
the  dwelling-place  of  a  sister  of  Henry  VIII 
of  England,  the  bridal  chamber  of  James  V 
of  Scotland,  the  residence  of  abbots,  the  theatre 
of  strolling  players,  the  abode  of  Papal  Minis- 
ters, an  observatory,  a  dissecting  hall,  a  printing- 
office,  a  boarding  school,  etc. 

In  1832  it  became  the  repository  of  one  of 
the  rarest  and  most  magnificent  collections  of 
sculpture  in  marble,  in  wood,  in  ivory ;  of  enam- 
els, terra-cotta  pieces,  bronzes,  furniture,  stained 
glass ;  specimens  of  goldsmiths'  work,  tapestries, 
slippers  and  shoes,  swords,  pikes,  steel  armour, 
etc.,  all  of  ancient  date,  that  was  ever  made. 


120 


PAKIS, 


It  was  M.  Alexandre  du  Sommerard,  mem- 
ber of  the  Cour  des  Comptes,  who  made  it  a  mu- 
seum for  the  archeological  relics  and  curiosities, 
valuable  furniture,  and  artistic  rarities  of  the 
Middle  Ages  which  he  had  been  collecting  dur- 
ing many  years.  On  his  death  the  Government 
bought  this  collection,  and  thus  the  "Musee 
des  Thermes  et  de  V Hotel  de  Cluny  w  was  firmly 
established.  Since  then  the  number  of  artistic 
works  that  formed  the  nucleus  of  the  museum 
has  increased  considerably.  Researches  made 
in  various  parts  of  Paris,  the  liberality  of  intel- 
ligent contributors,  and  State  acquisitions  have 
so  enriched  it  that  now  the  catalogue  names  over 
fifteen  thousand  artistic  curiosities  and  valuable 
articles,  most  of  which  are  unique  of  their 
kind  in  existence.  Perhaps  no  other  museum 
can  boast  so  fine  a  lot  of  ivories,  while  it  is 
particularly  rich  in  sculptural  monuments.  The 
goldsmiths'  art  is  also  splendidly  represented 
by  some  of  the  best  specimens  of  orfevrerie  that 
have  ever  been  discovered. 

On  account  of  the  costliness  of  their  material 
the  works  of  gold  and  silver  smiths  have  always 
been  more  menaced  than  those  of  other  artists. 
What  marvels  have  been  destroyed  in  the  cru- 
cible will  never  be  known,  but  fortunately 


A  MAGNIFICENT  MUSEUM.  121 


Mother  Earth  has  been  a  faithful  guardian  of 
treasures  intrusted  to  her  keeping,  and  it  is  to 
her  we  owe  our  richest  specimens  of  orfevrerie. 
It  was  from  the  earth  that  a  labourer,  working 
in  a  field  near  Rennes,  in  1856,  gathered  up 
seven  massive  gold  bracelets,  two  rings  and 
some  golden  nuggets,  all  of  barbarous  grace 
and  of  undoubted  antiquity,  which  are  now 
in  the  Cluny  Museum.  Two  years  later,  and 
strange  to  say  in  Spain,  several  crowns  made 
by  goldsmiths  for  the  Merovingian  kings  were 
found,  and  these  are  also  in  this  Museum.  It 
is  supposed  that  at  the  time  when  Spain  was 
invaded  by  the  French  these  precious  crowns, 
abandoned  in  that  country,  were  buried  for 
safekeeping;  but  they  appeared  twelve  or 
fourteen  centuries  afterwards  to  tell  Parisians 
of  the  magnificence  of  those  almost  legendary 
sovereigns,  and  of  how  skilful  were  the  men 
then  employed  in  the  art  of  working  gold 
repousse,  in  cutting  it  into  palm  leaves,  in  en- 
riching it  with  sapphires,  and  in  incrusting  it 
with  pearls. 

Another  rare  masterpiece  at  the  Hotel  de 
Cluny  is  an  altar  that  was  given  by  the  Em- 
peror Henri  II  to  the  Cathedral  of  Bale  in  the 
beginning  of  the  eleventh  century.    But  it 


122 


PAEIS. 


would  be  impossible  to  even  mention  all  tlie 
splendid  things  in  this  Museum,  much  less  to 
describe  them ;  besides,  when  he  goes  to  see  the 
collection,  the  delight  of  the  reader  will  be  en- 
hanced by  the  fact  that  he  is  also  visiting  the 
best  specimen  of  French  architecture  at  the 
close  of  the  fifteenth  century  now  extant. 

At  the  time  when  this  Hotel  de  Cluny  was 
built,  nearly  every  mansion  inside  or  outside  of 
Paris  was  a  chateau,  so  to  speak,  fortified  with 
small  towers  and  machicolations ;  but  this  tres 
gentil  sejour  was  not  erected  that  way.  The 
small  octagonal  tower  in  the  courtyard  was  not 
built  for  defense,  but  was  to  hold  the  stairs  up 
which  one  now  climbs  to  the  upper  floors. 
The  platform  at  the  summit  of  this  small  tower 
was  never  a  guette,  it  was  and  is  an  open  bal- 
cony. Charming,  too,  is  the  little  chapel,  orna- 
mented like  a  lady's  boudoir,  and  richly  worked 
up  to  its  vaulted  'ceiling.  The  fagade  of  the 
building,  the  gables  and  the  turrets  of  its 
dormer  windows,  the  cut-stone  balustrades  at 
the  base  of  the  roof,  the  windows  divided  by 
stone  mullions,  all  these  things  are  fine,  light, 
and  delicate.  Inside  are  large  rooms  with  im- 
mense fireplaces ;  while  the  staircase  in  the 
tourelle,  up  which  we  came,  is  spiral,  en  vis,  as 
they  said  in  those  other  days. 


QUEEN  MARGOT'S  GREAT  LOVE.  123 


In  a  small  and  rather  obscure  street  the  reader 
may  still  find  what  is  left  of  the  once  luxurious 
Hotel  de  Sens,  built  by  an  archbishoj)  of  Paris 
on  the  site  of  the  Royal  palace  of  Saint  Paul. 
An  inscription  on  the  fagade  of  the  mansion 
informs  the  public  that  the  building  was  con- 
structed toward  the  end  of  the  year  1500 
by  order  of  Tristan  de  Salazar,  a  strange 
character  who  easily  exchanged  his  mitre  for 
a  soldier's  helmet.  There  are  not  many  Paris- 
ians, much]  less  visitors  from  foreign  lands, 
who  know  of  the  existence  of  this  old  Gothic 
chateau,  with  its  two  towers,  its  arched  porches 
with  flamboyant  ogives,  its  feudal  postern  gate, 
where  there  still  remain  traces  of  the  block  for 
mounting  on  horseback,  its  sentinel  towers, 
and  its  loopholes  for  archers  and  men-at-arms. 

During  the  sixteenth  century  the  mansion 
remained  Episcopal  headquarters,  and  after- 
wards the  woman  whom  the  Bearnais  re- 
pudiated (Queen  Margot)  went  there  to  live, 
and  to  console  herself  for  being  abandoned. 
One  day  she  fell  in  love  with  a  handsome  page 
named  Julien,  of  whom  the  Vicomte  de  Ver- 
mond  was  so  jealous  that  when  he  saw  the 
Queen  and  page  turn  the  corner  of  the  rue  after 
mass  he  shot  Julien  in  the  heart,  and  the  boy 


124 


PARIS. 


died  with  a  smile  on  his  lips,  his  eyes  fixed  on 
those  of  the  Queen,  who  swore  neither  to  eat 
nor  drink  until  she  had  obtained  vengeance. 
The  assassin  was  arrested,  and  beheaded  some 
two  days  later  in  front  of  the  hotel.  The 
royal  lady  watched  the  execution  from  her 
window,  and  then  in  the  evening  left  the  house, 
never  to  return  to  it. 

During  the  Revolution  the  hotel  was  sold  by 
the  nation,  and  is  now  private  property. 
Gradually  the  tenants  became  less  illustrious, 
and  at  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century  it 
was  only  a  bureau  for  diligences  to  and  from 
Lyons.  Then  it  became  an  office  for  carters, 
next  the  abode  of  buyers  of  rabbit  skins,  and 
was  until  recently  a  candy  factory.  It  is 
easily  understood  that  all  these  transformations 
would  add  nothing  to  the  beauty  of  the  old 
building,  for  its  inner  walls  were  thrown  down, 
reparations  made,  halls  cut  up,  and  in  one  way 
or  another,  it  was  badly  disfigured ;  but  still 
there  is  a  good  deal  left  that  is  interesting. 
The  exterior  stands  boldly  as  if  guarding  its 
past  in  a  grand  manner,  calling  up  souvenirs  of 
the  long  ago  with  a  strange  and  characteristic 
youthfulnesSo  On  the  front,  a  little  above  to 
the  left  of  the  principal  door,  a  bullet  is  em- 


HOTELS  DE  SENS  AND  CAENA VALET.  125 


bedded  in  the  wall,  with  the  inscription :  u  29 
July,  1830,"  around  it  in  black  letters.  In 
spite  of  the  mutilations  which  the  building  has 
undergone,  it  still  contains  many  superb  things. 
There  is  a  square  donjon  in  the  courtyard  with 
a  beautiful  staircase  which  is  only  equalled 
by  that  of  the  donjon  of  Jean  Sans  Peur,  and 
a  curious  vestibule  which  has  hardly  suffered 
any  harm  at  all.  If  the  surrounding  ruins  and 
debris  were  cleared  away  and  the  whole  in- 
telligently restored,  the  Hotel  de  Sens  would  be 
indeed  a  marvellous  monument. 

The  Hotel  Carnavalet,  another  famous  old  ho- 
tel, is  now  a  Museum.  It  was  here  that  Madame 
de  S^vigne  lived  for  more  than  twenty  years, 
and  if  the  "  belle  marquise,"  for  love  of  whose 
beautiful  eyes  her  cousin,  Bussy-Rabutin,  died, 
could  return  to-day  and  see  her  old  home,  she 
would  indeed  be  astonished  to  find  the 
changes  in  the  garden  which  she  kept  so  beauti- 
fully neat  and  pretty,  where  she  enjoyed  the 
fresh  air  and  heard  the  neighbouring  Annonci- 
ades,  those  "  pretty  little  girls  in  blue,"  sing- 
ing in  the  mornings. 

The  Hotel  derives  its  singular  name,  which, 
from  its  very  strangeness,  has  been  in  popular 
use  for  more  than  three  centuries,  through  all 


126 


PARIS. 


its  many  changes  of  owners  and  tenants,  from 
its  second  owners,  a  Breton  family  called  Ker- 
nevenoy,  which  by  usage  became  turned  into 
the  more  euphonious  one  of  Carnavalet.  The 
house  was  built  in  1550  for  "Squire  Jacques 
de  Ligneris,"  president  of  the  Gallic  church 
at  the  Council  of  Trent.  Ligneris  was  a  con- 
noisseur of  art  treasures,  and  at  his  request 
Jean  Goujon  sculptured  some  fine  bas-reliefs  on 
the  front  of  his  residence  and  cut  out  a  superb 
group  of  the  four  seasons  between  the  windows 
of  the  body  of  the  principal  building. 

In  the  seventeenth  century  the  dwelling  be- 
longed to  the  Argouzes,  a  parliamentary  family 
from  Normandy,  and  then  to  M.  d'Aguerry, 
Counsellor  to  the  parliament  to  Grenoble. 
That  rich  lawyer,  who  liked  order  and  regular- 
ity, did  not  hesitate  to  touch  up  the  works  of 
Lescot,  of  Bullant,  and  of  Jean  Goujon.  He 
called  Mansard  to  his  assistance,  and  that 
famous  architect  added  a  right  wing,  and  exe- 
cuted bas-reliefs  and  allegories  which  do  not 
show  to  advantage  by  the  side  of  the  four 
graceful  sculptures  of  Goujon. 

Fortunately,  a  later  possessor  did  away  with 
these  additions,  and  restored  the  body  of  the 
building  to  its  original  state,  with  its  high 


MADAME  DE  SEVIGNE'S  HOME. 


127 


roof,  projecting  ledges  and  mullioned  windows. 
Having  made  these  alterations,  Perrin  Dan- 
din,  a  native  of  Dauphiny,  sought  to  sell  his 
property  at  a  good  price,  and  as  just  at  that 
time  Marie  de  Rabutin-Chantal,  Marquise  de 
Sevigne,  was  looking  for  a  house  in  the  quarter 
of  Marais  to  suit  her  economical  tastes,  yet 
large  enough  to  accommodate  her  family  and  to 
enable  her  to  receive,  and  where  she  would 
also  have  a  quiet  garden  in  which  to  think  out 
those  witty  sayings  with  which  she  embellished 
her  letters,  she  rented  the  Hotel  Carnavalet, 
even  though  her  daughter,  the  beautiful  Mad- 
ame de  Grignan,  a  lady  of  very  little  heart  and 
as  little  wit,  discovered  in  spite  of  her  prudery, 
"  that  the  mirrors  were  not  sufficiently  large  nor 
clear  enough,  that  she  disliked  antiquities,  and 
that  the  rooms  were  inconvenient."  However, 
Madame  de  Sevigne  took  the  hotel  conjointly 
with  her  son-in-law,  M.  de  Grignan  and  the 
Abbe  Coulanges,  one  of  their  most  intimate 
friends,  the  marquise  and  her  daughter  occupy- 
ing all  the  first  floor  of  the  principal  part  of 
the  building  between  the  entrance  courtyard  and 
the  garden ;  the  rooms  of  M.  de  Grignan  were 
on  the  ground  floor;  while  the  apartment  on 
the  street,  with  its  little  staircase  leading  to 


128 


PARIS. 


the  garden,  was  reserved  for  the  Marquis  de 
Sevigne,  who  had  only  to  traverse  the  Place 
Royale  in  order  to  go  and  take  supper  with 
beautiful  and  naughty  Ninon,  who  lived  not 
very  far  away.  It  was  in  this  fine  hotel,  old 
enough  to  be  considered  noble,  and  sufficiently 
modern  to  be  elegant,  that  Madame  the  Mar- 
quise flirted  with  the  gay  butterfly  courtiers 
without  changing  her  widow's  cap,  and  wrote 
those  letters  into  which  she  threw  all  her  heart 
and  soul. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  a  tax  collector  named  Brunet  du 
Bancy,  or  de  Bondy,  bought  the  hotel;  he  was 
followed  by  Durpes  de  St.  Maur,  and  then  by 
the  Pommereul.  The  revolution  installed  a 
library  in  it;  that  was  replaced  by  Napoleon 
with  a  school  of  roads  and  bridges;  and  in  1830 
an  art  institution  was  established  there  under 
the  direction  of  M.  Verdot. 

In  1866  the  city  of  Paris  bought  the  hotel 
with  the  intention  of  turning  it  into  a  municipal 
museum,  but  the  restorations  begun  three  years 
later  were  interrupted  by  the  war  with  Ger- 
many, and  were  not  resumed  until  in  1888. 
The  buildings  form  a  square  in  the  centre  of 
which,  and  surrounded  on  four  sides  by  the 


RICH  AND  CURIOUS  THINGS. 


129 


Museum,  is  a  garden  that  can  be  reached  either 
from  the  older  portion  or  by  the  Arc  de  Nazar- 
eth. The  new  galleries  open  on  this  garden, 
and  are  full  of  fragments  and  curiosities  of  dif- 
ferent old  Paris  buildings,  rare  portraits,  pic- 
tures and  engravings,  one  showing  the  Place 
Royale  in  the  year  1612.  There  is  also  a  can- 
vas, painted  at  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury, representing  the  Italian  troupe  then  in 
Paris,  with  Isabelle  Andreini  for  the  star. 
She  was  held  in  such  esteem  by  Henri  IV  that 
he  gave  her  an  autograph  letter  of  recommenda- 
tion to  the  Governor  of  Lyons  when  she  was 
about  to  visit  that  city. 

In  this  Musee  Carnavalet  one  can  see  antique 
debris  and  statues  of  the  Renaissance  the  same 
as  in  other  museums,  but  one  may  also  see  such 
books,  documents,  monuments,  and  bric-a-brac 
as  exist  nowhere  else  perhaps,  "  There  are  per- 
sons," wrote  Victor  Hugo,  "  who  can  never  see 
a  wall,  but  they  fall  to  wondering  what  may 
possibly  be  happening  behind  it."  So,  too, 
there  are  persons  who  are  curious  to  see  the 
cane  that  somebody  has  carried,  or  the  chair  on 
which  some  one  used  to  sit,  or  the  statue  of  this 
or  that  great  individual,  or  the  first  books  ever 
printed.    If  readers  of  this  work  have  any  of 


130 


PAEIS. 


these  curiosities,  the  Carnavalet  Museum  will 
satisfy  their  every  longing.  There  are  engrav- 
ings, bibelots  and  other  objects  innumerable 
relating  to  Parisian  history,  a  great  deal  of 
space  being  taken  up  with  souvenirs  of  the 
Revolutionary  period.  The  bonnets  of  Jacob- 
ins ;  sabres  worn  by  members  of  the  Conven- 
tion; clocks  with  decimal  hours;  the  official 
poster  or  notice  of  the  execution  of  Louis  XVI ; 
packs  of  cards  where  the  kings  are  philoso- 
phers, the  queens  are  seasons  of  the  year,  the 
knaves,  elements,  etc.  ;  and  these  with  books, 
pictures,  and  engravings  of  that  period  are 
certainly  of  great  interest. 

But  there  is  also  a  second  series  in  the  valu- 
able collection  of  the  Musee  Carnavalet  which 
is  of  equal  if  not  superior  importance.  In  it 
are  placed  all  the  antique  objects  which  have 
been  unearthed  or  discovered  during  the  past 
twenty-five  or  thirty  years,  and  the  rooms  are 
particularly  rich  in  fragments  from  Gallo-Roman 
edifices  that  once  stood  in  Paris.  The  garden 
back  of  it  has  also  been  put  to  use,  and  it  over- 
flows with  ancient  fragments  of  monuments 
and  houses,  together  with  restitutions  or  repro- 
ductions of  the  attractive  parts  of  many  of  the 
historical  mansions  which  once  upon  a  time 


DECAY  OF  OLD  MANSIONS.  131 


ornamented  the  capital.  I  say  once  upon  a 
time,  for,  alas !  and  because  of  lack  of  present 
care,  the  old  mansions  and  palaces  of  Paris  are 
fast  disappearing.  In  a  French  comedy  played 
at  the  Palais  Royal  theatre,  say  a  dozen  years 
ago,  one  of  the  characters,  a  prefet  but  recently 
named  to  office  by  the  Government,  is  being 
told  of  the  curiosities  and  wonders  in  his  new 
department,  and  among  these  mention  is  made  of 
an  extinct  volcano.  "  Comment,"  cried  he,  "  ils 
avaient  un  volcan,  et  ils  l'ont  laisse  etiendre !  " 
It  looks  very  much  as  though  in  times  to  come, 
soon  perhaps,  the  world  will  be  exclaiming  : 

"  What !  the  Parisians  had  the  most  beauti- 
ful, the  most  curious,  the  most  interesting  his- 
torical monuments  of  Europe,  and  yet  they  let 
them  fall  into  ruins  !  " 


CHAPTEE  VIII. 


An  immense  and  sumptuous  edifice  called  the  Louvre 
— A  perfect  specimen  of  mixed  architecture — Its 
three  distinct  periods — The  scene  of  many  de- 
plorable incidents — How  it  became  a  great  museum 
— A  masterpiece  of  ancient  statuary — Its  preserva- 
tion during  the  Commune — The  Tuileries  and  its 
Occupants — Anecdotes  and  incidents — Its  orgies, 
its  horrors,  and  its  final  destruction. 

Ok  his  return  from  Italy,  where  he  had  been 
spending  some  little  while,  Frangois  I  gave 
orders  to  pull  down  the  donjon  of  the  Louvre. 
It  is  said  that  the  sight  of  the  old  and  gloomy 
prison  gave  him  such  a  chill  whenever  he 
passed  it,  as  he  did  quite  frequently,  that 
he  determined  the  feudal  fortress  should  be 
demolished.  Moreover,  he  was  desirous  of  see- 
ing the  Louvre  enlarged  and  made  grander  in 
every  way ;  so  he  gave  his  orders  that  there 
should  be  built  an  immense  and  sumptuous 
edifice,  something  which  would  recall  the  fine 
palazzi  of  Italy,  which  would  remind  him  of 
those  marble  villas  ornamented  with  columns, 


THE  LOUVKE. 


133 


statues,  and  pictures  which  lie  had  so  much 
admired,  and  wherein  he  had  been  so  happy 
in  the  year  1524. 

Architect  Pierre  Lescot  drew  up  the  plans, 
and  the  palace  was  built ;  but  what  the  King 
could  not  do  was  bring  the  sun  and  the  sky  of 
Florence  to  Paris,  and  so  the  New  Louvre, 
very  rich,  very  elegant,  and  interiorly  very 
splendid,  though  undoubtedly  very  gray  also, 
a  bit  too  heavy,  not  at  all  gai  in  fact, — was 
for  those  kings  who  resided  in  it  a  place  in 
which  they  were  considerably  ennuied,  hence, 
it  was  never  popular  with  them.  That  Louvre 
is  an  emormous  pile  of  palaces  of  many  periods, 
the  building  of  which,  begun  nearly  four 
hundred  years  ago,  was  completed  only  very 
recently,  and  yet,  such  as  it  now  is,  it  passes 
for  one  of  the  very  finest  structures  in  the 
world.  It  shares  with  the  Cathedral  the  honour 
of  being  the  capital  monument  of  Paris :  Notre 
Dame  for  ye  olden  times,  the  Louvre  for  the 
more  modern  epoch.  The  treasures  of  art  and 
science  in  it,  the  statuary,  pictures,  historical 
objects,  and  numerous  models  which  it  shelters 
all  form  the  grandest  Museum  of  France,  as 
indeed  it  is  one  of  the  greatest  on  earth. 

For  Saxon  and  Gothic  architecture  commend 


134 


PAKIS. 


me  to  England,  but  if  one  wants  to  look  at  a 
perfect  specimen  of  the  mixed  sort,  then  one 
should  go  to  the  Louvre.  Rich,  varied,  ele- 
gant, neither  grand  nor  simple,  both  massive 
and  ornamental,  solid  and  full  of  grace — there 
is  no  other  temple,  or  palace,  or  house  that 
was  ever  built  by  human  hands  which  is  now 
standing  that  can  be  compared  to  it. 

And  why  called  the  Louvre  ?  No  one 
knows.  Some  seek  the  etymology  of  the  word 
in  the  Saxon  hower,  which  meant  castle;  others, 
look  for  it  in  the  old  French  word  oiwre,  now 
ceuvre,  and  say  it  was  called  Vouvre,  the  work 
par  excellence  ;  while  still  others  claim  it  to  be 
the  name  of  a  nobleman  who  once  lived  there- 
abouts. What  is  certain  is  that  the  origin  of  this 
chateau  goes  back  to  a  very  remote  period,  as 
it  was  already  in  existence  in  the  seventh 
century,  when  Dagobert  was  King. 

But  it  was  not  as  yet  a  royal  residence,  and 
historians  make  no  mention  of  it  until  it  was 
repaired  by  Philippe  Augustus,  even  though 
he  did  not  include  it  within  the  wall  that  he 
built  around  the  old  Cite.  The  main  building 
was  then  only  two  stories  high,  but  Charles  V 
raised  it  some  thirty  feet  and  crowned  it  with 
terraces  and  a  number  of  towers.    He  also  in- 


ITS  THREE  DISTINCT  PERIODS.  135 


eluded  the  Louvre  in  the  new  limits  of  Paris, 
and  then  Charles  VI  set  it  apart  as  a  palace 
in  which  to  house  foreign  Sovereigns  who 
visited  the  capital.  Both  Emmanuel,  Emperor 
of  Constantinople,  and  Sigismond,  Emperor 
of  Germany,  were  thus  lodged  at  the  Louvre. 
French  Kings  had  not  yet  made  it  their  resi- 
dence, and  Francis  I,  patron  of  all  that  was 
refined  and  liberal,  was  for  pulling  it  down 
entirely  in  order  to  erect  in  its  place  a  palace 
more  worthy  of  a  nation  with  whom  a  taste 
for  art  and  letters  was  fast  springing  up.  As 
it  was,  great  artists  were  summoned  to  the 
court,  the  plans  of  Pierre  Lescot  were  adopted, 
and  the  new  palace — it  is  now  called  the  old 
Louvre,  to  designate  it  from  the  constructions 
of  subsequent  reigns — was  commenced.  That 
edifice,  even  in  the  imperfect  state  in  which  it 
still  was  at  the  beginning  of  the  Revolution, 
was  the  outcome  of  a  series  of  nearly  continu- 
ous works  which  were  carried  on  from  the 
reign  of  Francis  I  down  to  the  beginning  of 
the  nineteenth  century. 

We  can  to-day  see  in  the  execution  of  these 
embellishments  or  alterations  three  distinct 
periods  :  The  first,  that  of  Francis  I,  Henry  II, 
and  Louis  XIII ;  the  second  under  Louis  XIV ; 


136 


PARIS. 


the  third  under  Louis  XV.  The  portions 
which  were  erected  by  the  first  two  named  are 
those  that  form  the  angle  of  the  courtyard 
from  the  pavilion  in  the  centre  of  the  southern 
fagade  to  the  main  pavilion  surmounted  by  a 
dome  that  is  opposite  to  the  Colonnade. 
Louis  XIII  did  not  do  much,  but  Catherine  de 
Medicis  began  the  great  gallery.  Henry  III 
and  Henry  IV  added  but  little  to  the  building, 
although  it  was  during  their  time  that  the 
palace  was  most  constantly  inhabited  by 
French  kings.  However,  the  incomplete  struc- 
tures which  had  extended  over  a  space  four 
times  greater  than  had  been  originally  intended, 
were  joined  to  the  remains  of  the  old  chateau. 
Then  Louis  XIV  ordered  the  completion  of 
the  Louvre,  and  yet  at  the  beginning  of  the 
nineteenth  century  the  work  was  not  wholly 
finished,  although  now,  after  more  than  two 
hundred  and  seventy  years,  the  public  enjoy 
the  great  palace  in  its  present  beautiful  state. 
Strange  to  say,  the  very  king  who  did  most  to 
build  the  elegant  edifice  was  the  first  sovereign 
of  France  to  desert  the  dwelling  of  the  Valois 
and  of  the  Bourbons,  for  the  pestilential  atmos- 
phere of  Versailles. 

What  a  wonderful  history  could  be  written 


THE  SCENE  OP  TRAGIC  INCIDENTS.  137 


of  the  Louvre  if  one  were  so  minded  and  had 
the  ability.  Its  history,  like  that  of  most  royal 
abodes,  recalls  many  deplorable  incidents.  It 
was  in  the  secret  chambers  of  the  Louvre  that 
Catherine  de  Medicis  and  her  son  Charles  IX 
planned  the  murder  of  all  the  Huguenots.  Of 
all  the  Protestants  who  were  then  in  the  Louvre 
— and  in  vain  did  they  invoke  the  sanctity  of 
treaties  and  the  promises  of  a  king — one  only, 
a  gentleman  named  Tejan,  escaped  death.  The 
balcony  still  exists  where  Charles  IX  stood 
and  took  savage  delight  in  seeing  his  guard 
slaughter  the  fleeing  people,  and  from  which 
he  himself  fired  on  his  own  subjects,  as  they 
hurried  to  and  fro  in  horror  and  consternation, 
amidst  the  tolling  of  bells,  the  cries  of  the 
dying,  and  the  yells  of  murderers.  The  apart- 
ment is  still  visible  where  the  assassin  Mauri  vert 
attempted  the  life  of  Admiral  De  Coligni,  and 
the  room  is  still  to  be  seen  from  which  Henri 
of  Navarre  was  dragged  from  the  arms  of  his 
beautiful  bride  to  the  feet  of  the  King  to  hear 
the  dreadful  alternative  pronounced  in  the 
midst  of  zealots  and  assassins.  Such  were 
the  horrors  of  which  the  Louvre  was  a 
witness. 

Two  hundred  and  sixty  years  later  it  became 


'138 


PARIS. 


once  more,  as  in  the  time  of  Prevost  Marcel, 
the  conquest  of  the  people ;  but  on  that  occa- 
sion they  J_id  not  capture  it  until  after  suffer- 
ing severe  losses  in  the  Place  St.  Germain 
l'Auxerrois,  from  which  the  principal  attack 
was  made. 

There  are  some  magnificent  rooms  in  the  old 
palace,  notably  the  hall  wherein  Marie  de  Medi- 
cis  gave  her  splendid  f#tes,  the  hall  where 
Henry  IV  was  married  to  Marguerite  of  Valois, 
the  one  where  Moliere  first  played  his  come- 
dies, and  the  one  in  which  the  French  Insti- 
tute, when  the  Diderots,  the  BufFons,  the 
Voltaires,  and  the  Marmontels  were  among  its 
members,  held  its  sittings.  The  exhibition  of 
works  by  living  artists  known  as  the  Salon 
used  to  be  held  in  the  Louvre  every  two  years, 
in  the  months  of  August  and  September. 
Many  celebrated  French  painters  were  gratui- 
tously lodged  in  the  palace,  until  Napoleon  I 
dislodged  them  in  order  to  make  place  for  the 
spoils  that  his  army  was  bringing  back  from 
conquered  countries.  It  was  he  who  really 
started  the  great  Temple  of  Fine  Arts  to  which 
subjugated  empires  and  kingdoms  contributed, 
and  which  has  since  become  the  admiration  of 
the  world.    After  his  downfall  the  museum 


THE  VENUS  DE  MILO. 


139 


was  stripped  of  many  of  its  riches,  and  these 
were  restored  to  their  former  owners ;  but  in 
course  of  time  the  vacancies  thus  created  were 
filled  by  the  productions  of  French  painters  and 
sculptors  who  had  been  dead  more  than  ten 
years,  by  purchasers  abroad,  or  by  gifts  to  the 
nation,  until  now  it  is  again  the  fine  collection 
and  museum  so  renowned  everywhere. 

One  of  the  greatest  masterpieces  which  the 
Louvre  shelters  is  the  Venus  de  Milo.  It  has 
been  in  the  Louvre  since  1821,  when  it  was 
presented  to  Louis  XVIII,  by  the  French  Am- 
bassador at  Constantinople,  who  purchased  it 
from  some  peasants  who  found  it  on  their  farm 
in  the  island  of  Milos.  The  arrival  of  this 
Venus  in  Paris  was  an  event  that  aroused  a  great 
deal  of  interest,  for  her  fame  as  the  finest  known 
specimen  of  antique  art  had  preceded  her,  and 
it  so  happened  that  she  arrived  on  the  day  fixed 
for  the  re-opening  of  Parliament.  That  cere- 
mony took  place  in  the  hall  of  the  Louvre,  now 
known  as  the  Salle  Lacaze,  to  which  place  the 
king  was  drawn  in  a  chair  that  ran  on  wheels. 
The  unpacked  statue  stood  in  one  of  the  galler- 
ies through  which  the  monarch  passed.  He 
looked  at  it  for  awhile,  then  turning  to  his 
courtiers,  said: 


140 


PARIS. 


u  It  really  is  a  very  fine  masterpiece.  The 
place  for  it  is  the  Museum  of  the  Louvre.  See 
to  it  that  it  is  put  there  immediately." 

In  those  days  Royal  Museum  managers  had 
the  habit  of  restoring  all  works  of  art  that  came 
into  their  possession  in  any  way  damaged,  and 
too  often  this  was  done  in  a  manner  which 
showed  little  respect  for  the  laws  of  aesthetics 
or  for  rules  of  proportion.  When  the  Yenus 
de  Milo  was  received  it  was  in  several  pieces, 
and  certain  portions,  notably  the  arms,  were 
missing.  In  order  to  restore  it,  it  was  neces- 
sary to  decide  what  had  been  the  original  posi- 
tion of  these  arms,  and  this  gave  rise  to  much 
discussion  among  sculptures  and  archaeologists. 
One  of  the  conservators  of  the  Museum,  an  old 
gentleman  named  Quincy,  who  was  considered 
good  authority  in  such  matters,  expressed  the 
belief  that  this  Venus  had  been  part  of  a  group. 
He  cited  several  well-known  pieces  of  antique 
sculpture  in  which  Mars  and  Venus  are  repre- 
sented standing  side  by  side,  and  he  pointed 
out  the  fact  that  the  face  was  turned  to  the 
left,  which,  he  held,  showed  she  was  looking  at 
some  one  in  that  direction.  This  theory  was 
combated  by  others,  one  man  insisting  that  as 
the  trunk  of  the  statue  was  inclined  toward  the 


THE  VENUS  DE  MILO. 


PEESERVED  DURING  THE  COMMUNE.  141 


right,  it  was  impossible  that  there  could  be  an- 
other figure  on  the  left  of  it.  As  these  two 
conservators  were  unable  to  agree  as  to  how  the 
statue  should  be  restored,  the  matter  was  re- 
ferred to  the  King  who  said  : 

"  Well,  gentlemen,  suppose  you  do  nothing 
whatever  to  it."  Thus  it  came  about  that  this 
incomparable  work  of  art  escaped  further  in- 
juries at  the  hand  of  man. 

When  in  1870  it  became  evident  that  Paris 
would  have  to  stand  a  siege  and  possible  bom- 
bardment by  the  Germans,  the  conservators  of 
the  Louvre  museum  had  the  Venus  de  Milo 
taken  down,  and  she  was  hidden  in  one  of  the 
cellars  at  police  headquarters.  There  she  re- 
mained, covered  with  barrels,  empty  sacks, 
broken  boards,  street  sweepings  and  other 
debris  through  the  war  and  the  Commune. 
When  taken  back  to  the  Louvre  it  was  noticed 
that  dampness  had  softened  the  plaster  with 
which  the  pieces  had  been  put  together  fifty 
years  before,  and  examination  showed  that  the 
bend  of  the  figure  toward  the  right  was  due  to 
a  wooden  wedge  inserted  between  the  upper  and 
the  lower  fragments.  This  wedge  was  removed, 
the  two  portions  were  placed  in  their  natural 
position,  and  the  figure  gained  immensely  in 
grace  and  beauty. 


142 


PARIS, 


It  is  believed  that  the  museum  of  the  Louvre 
contains  to-day  the  most  splendid  collection  of 
art  treasures  of  every  kind  that  is  to  be  found 
under  a  single  roof  anywhere  in  the  world. 
One  may  walk  through  its  rooms  and  galleries 
day  after  day,  for  weeks  and  months  even,  and 
still  be  sure  of  finding  something  new  and 
worthy  of  one's  attention  and  study  at  each 
visit. 

"The  Louvre  is  too  small  for  two  Courts," 
said  Catherine  de  Medicis,  after  the  death  of 
her  husband,  Henri  II.  "  I  will  make  of  it  a 
palace  worthy  of  Francois  II,  and  erect  an- 
other close  by  which  will  serve  the  Queen 
Mother.  So  she  gave  orders  for  building  the 
Tuileries,  the  work  was  pushed  forward  with 
great  rapidity,  and  in  1566  Catherine  installed 
herself  in  the  new  palace.  It  was  at  the  Tuil- 
eries that  she  used  to  hold  her  interviews  with 
the  astrologer  Ruggiere,  in  whose  predictions 
she  had  implicit  faith.  After  her  death  her 
son,  the  Duke  of  Anjou,  lived  there,  and  he 
still  retained  the  place  as  his  private  palace 
when  he  came  to  the  throne  as  Henri  III.  It 
was  in  the  Tuileries  that  a  band  of  dissolute 
young  courtiers  indulged  in  those  shameful  org- 
ies which  so  stained  the  reign  of  the  last  of  the 


ORGIES  AT  THE  TUILERIES.  143 


Valois.  Henri  III  was  assassinated  by  Jac- 
ques Clement,  the  Bourbon  line  succeeded  in 
the  person  of  Henri  IV,  who  apostacised  from 
the  Protestant  religion  to  secure  a  kingdom  ; 
and  when  Ravaillac  had  done  away  with  that 
gallant  king,  young  Louis  XIII  occupied  the 
Tuileries.  The  child  king  had  been  married  to 
Anne  of  Austria,  but  they  were  not  allowed  to 
live  together,  still  she  was  permitted  to  go  to  the 
Tuileries  occasionally  to  play  in  the  garden 
with  her  little  husband.  He  had  been  married 
twenty-seven  years  before  he  gave  an  heir  to 
France.  When  Louis  XIV  became  king, 
Countess  Soissons  lived  for  awhile  at  the  Tuil- 
eries; she  gave  some  notorious  midnight  sup- 
pers, and  invented  the  medianoche,  an  orgie 
which  included  every  excess  that  it  was  possi- 
ble for  the  human  mind  to  think  of.  The  "  Sun 
King,"  as  Louis  XIV  was  called,  then  built 
the  Chateau  of  Versailles,  after  tiring  of  the 
Chateau  of  St.  Germain,  and  seldom  went  to 
Paris ;  but  the  Tuileries  still  remained  the 
scene  of  gay  doings.  One  such  event  was  the 
marriage  of  the  king's  brother,  Philippe  of  Or- 
leans, with  Henriette  of  England.  That 
Orleans  prince  was  a  man  of  uncommonly  low 
tastes ;  when  his  wife  died,  he  moved  to  the 


144 


PARIS, 


Palais  Royal  and  his  orgies  there  are  unmen- 
tionable. During  his  minority  Louis  XV  re- 
sided at  the  Tuileries,  but  he  too  abandoned  it 
for  Versailles ;  the  next  occupant  was  the  witty 
and  gallant  Abbe  de  Bernis.  One  night  the 
Grand  Opera,  then  located  in  the  Palais  Royal, 
was  burned  out,  and  the  next  day  the  stage  was 
transferred  to  the  Tuileries.  That  was  in  1753, 
and  the  Opera  remained  there  until  1770. 

In  October,  1790,  a  mob  of  women  forced 
their  way  into  the  courtyard  of  the  Tuileries  to 
have  an  explanation  with  General  de  Lafayette, 
who  had  made  it  the  headquarters  of  the  Guard 
National.  Fears  for  the  Royal  family  induced 
him  to  abandon  the  palace  for  Versailles,  and 
thither  the  mob  followed.  It  compelled  Louis 
XVI  and  Marie  Antoinette  to  return  to  Paris. 
At  the  time  the  mob  had  their  fight  with  the 
Swiss  guard  a  part  of  the  palace  took  fire  and 
burned  down.  On  the  27th  of  August,  1792,  a 
festival  in  honour  of  the  victory  of  the  people 
was  celebrated  within  its  blackened  and  blood- 
stained walls.  The  palace  was  then  left  open 
and  all  were  at  liberty  to  wander  through  its 
deserted  halls.  In  December  of  that  year  Louis 
XVI  entered  the  Tuileries  for  the  last  time,  a 
prisoner.    The  building  was  occupied  for  a 


BKILLIANT  UNDER  NAPOLEON.  145 


short  while  by  the  Directoire,  then  Bonaparte 
as  First  Consul  restored  the  Tuileries  to  a 
courtly  and  splendid  era. 

Never  was  the  palace  more  brilliant  than 
during  the  First  Empire,  when  there  reigned  a 
luxury,  a  brilliancy,  and  a  beauty  without  pre- 
cedent in  its  history.  But  Napoleon's  occu- 
pancy of  the  Tuileries  ended  when  he  was 
exiled  to  Elba;  for  on  his  return  from  that 
island  he  resided  in  the  ^lysee.  After  Water- 
loo, Louis  XVIII  once  more  occupied  the 
Tuileries  ;  he  was  succeeded  by  Charles  X,  and 
he  in  turn  by  Louis  Philippe.  In  1848  the 
"  Citizen  King,"  was  driven  out  of  France,  and 
the  people  retook  possession  of  the  Tuileries. 
Insurgent  after  insurgent  rushed  into  the  house 
to  seat  himself  on  the  throne,  shouting  mean- 
while "  Vive  la  Bepublique  !  "  Very  little 
damage  was  done  to  the  palace,  however,  and 
it  was  soon  converted  into  a  hospital. 

When  Prince  Louis  Napoleon  was  elected 
President  of  the  Second  Republic,  he  also  went 
to  reside  at  the  ^lysee,  but  he  soon  left  that 
mansion  for  the  Tuileries  as  Emperor.  Napo- 
leon III  and  Mademoiselle  Eugenie  de  Montijo 
were  married  in  the  Tuileries,  although  the 
religious  ceremony  was  celebrated  the  next  day 


146 


PARIS, 


at  Notre  Dame.  It%  was  in  the  Tuileries  that 
nearly  all  the  State  ceremonies  of  the  Second 
Empire  took  place,  and  among  the  guests  of  that 
palace  may  be  mentioned  Queen  Victoria  and 
her  husband,  Prince  Albert.  It  was  there  that 
an  heir  to  the  Imperial  throne  was  born ;  and 
it  was  from  thence  that  the  Empress  Eugenie 
escaped  in  a  public  hack  and  rode  to  the  private 
residence  of  an  American  dentist  who  afterward 
saw  her  safely  out  of  France  and  into  England. 

During  the  siege  of  Paris  by  the  Germans 
the  Tuileries  palace  was  a  hospital,  and  then 
one  day,  when  the  troops  of  Versailles  penetrated 
into  the  capital,  the  Communists  burned  it 
down,  nothing  being  left  of  the  structure  but  a 
heap  of  smoking  and  unsightly  ruins.  In  July, 
1882,  the  French  Parliament  appropriated  ten 
thousand  dollars  to  be  expended  in  removing 
these  ruins,  and  so  well  was  this  work  done 
that  to-day  not  one  stone  or  brick  is  left  stand- 
ing upon  another  of  the  famous  palace. 


CHAPTEE  IX. 


The  Hotel  des  Tournelles — Mansion  wherein  Louis  XII 
died — Once  it  was  both  citadel  and  royal  residence 
— A  fatal  tilting  tournament — The  chateau  pulled 
down  by  a  queen's  command — Origin  of  the  Place 
Royale — Duelling  during  the  time  of  Cardinal 
Kichelieu — A  famous  neighbourhood — An  expen- 
sive beauty  and  a  poor  poet's  wife — The  rendez- 
vous of  gaiety  and  diplomacy  —  Anecdote  of  a 
love  letter — The  best  French  ever  spoken — An  ex- 
quisite Marchioness — The  old  mansion  of  de  La- 
moignon. 

The  fourteenth  century  was  distinguished  in 
Paris  by  the  imposing  order  of  its  military  con- 
structions; the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth,  by  the 
boldness  and  elegance  of  their  religious  and 
civil  edifices.  It  was  during  this  latter  period 
that  Gothic  architecture,  so  ingenious  in  its  con- 
ceptions, so  minutely  exquisite  in  its  details, 
made  its  brilliant  effects  the  best  known.  Such 
a  structure  was  the  Hotel  des  Tournelles,  situ- 
ate vis-a-vis  to  the  Palais  St.  Paul,  and  innu- 
merable were  the  scandalous  gallantries  and 
saturnalia  accomplished  in  that  mansion.  Pierre 


148 


PARIS. 


d'Orgemont,  Chancellor  of  France,  erected  the 
building  in  1390,  his  son  sold  the  place  to  the 
Duke  de  Berri,  brother  of  Charles  V,  for  four- 
teen thousand  golden  ecus,  in  turn  the  Duke 
traded  it  to  the  Duke  of  Orleans  for  some  other 
property,  and  then,  in  1417,  the  king  became  its 
owner.  Charles  VI,  during  his  insanity,  and  the 
Duke  of  Bedford,  regent  in  France  for  the  King 
of  England,  resided  at  the  Hotel  des  Tournelles. 
Whenever  he  was  in  Paris  Louis  XI,  occupied 
it,  and  it  was  there  that  Louis  XII  breathed 
his  last.  The  square  of  this  hotel  also  con- 
tained the  Marche  aux  Chevaux,  which  in  1578 
was  the  scene  of  a  violent  struggle  between  the 
minions  of  Henri  III  and  the  favorites  of  the 
Duke  de  Guise.  Both  these  establishments, 
house  of  the  king  and  horse  market,  were  finally 
made  to  give  way  for  the  Place  Roy  ale ;  but 
before  that,  the  mansion  was  at  once  a  citadel 
and  a  royal  residence,  a  prison  and  a  menagerie. 
The  Tour  de  Nesle,  of  odious  memory,  was 
never  worse  than  the  Hotel  des  Tournelles. 
Parisians  hardly  dared  to  lift  their  eyes  and 
look  at  its  windows  while  Bedford  resided 
there ;  and  when  the  English  had  been  driven 
out  of  France,  King  Charles  VII  planted  his 
triumphant  banner  within  its  parlours. 


THE  HOTEL  DES  TOURNELLES.  149 


Frangois  I  covered  its  walls  with  master- 
pieces of  Italian  art,  and  filled  its  rooms  with 
the  noise  of  festivals.  Poetry  and  love  en- 
tered into  Paris  with  "  le  roi  chevalier,,"  En- 
vious of  the  Medicis  at  Florence  and  of  the 
Pope  at  Rome,  Frangois  founded  the  College  of 
France,  and  made  the  already  old  Louvre  a  fit 
place  of  sojourn  for  a  guest  who  bore  the  title 
of  Emperor  and  the  name  of  Charles  Quint. 
The  Imprimerie  Royale,  or  Royal  Printing 
office,  was  established  and  its  work  put  in 
charge  of  Robert  Estienne ;  and  it  must  have 
been  a  fine  sight  when  the  brilliant  king  went 
to  call  on  the  modest  printer  in  the  latter's 
own  house. 

Like  a  sovereign,  the  Duchess  d  Etampes 
reigned  at  the  Hotel  des  Tournelles :  le  Prima- 
tice,  Leonardo  da  Vinci  and  Andrea  del  Sarto 
lodged  there  when  they  deigned  to  visit  Paris ; 
and  it  was  there  that  Diane  de  Poitiers  shone 
in  all  her  glory. 

Under  Henri  II  the  Chateau  of  Tournelles 
displayed  extraordinary  splendour,  and  even 
Guise  and  the  Montmorenci  joined  with  the 
crowd  who  paid  court  to  the  young  and  pas- 
sionate sovereign.  It  was  a  nightly,  almost  an 
hourly  gathering  of  gallant  gentil  hommes  and 


150 


PARIS. 


belles  dames  which  enlivened  the  Court  of  his 
Royal  Majesty.  It  was  also  a  revolution  in 
history,  so  to  speak,  for  ever  since  the  days  of 
conquest  and  of  pleasure  had  set  in,  history 
had  been  taking  on  quite  a  new  form.  It  had 
become  less  serious,  less  sententious,  and  was 
seeking  among  the  smallest  causes  to  explain 
the  greatest  purposes.  But  if  history  was  feel- 
ing this  change,  the  more  reason  why  art  and 
poetry  and  love  should  admire  the  change  thus 
produced.  It  would  be  easy  to  write  of  the 
statuary  which  was  then  introduced  from  Italy, 
or  chiselled  in  France;  of  orangeries  magnificent 
with  flowers,  fruits  and  sparkling  waters;  of 
famous  cooks,  and  budding  poets,  of  the  profu- 
sion of  diamonds  and  pearls,  of  laces  and  vel- 
vets, of  ermine  and  embroidery ;  of  tournaments 
at  wit  and  gallantry  in  honour  of  those  beauti- 
ful women,  and  of  those  who  owned  all  this 
wealth. 

Towards  the  end  of  June,  1559?  a  series  of 
great  festivals  were  given  in  Paris  on  the  occa- 
sion of  the  marriage  of  Isabelle  of  France  to 
Philip  II  of  Spain.  Among  the  entertain- 
ments a  tournament  was  held  in  front  of  the 
Hotel  des  Tournelles,  which  lasted  four  days. 
On  the  fourth  day  the  king  took  it  into  his 


THE  PLACE  EOYA-L. 


151 


head  to  have  a  tilt  with  Count  Montgomery, 
Captain  of  the  Scottish  Guards,  who  tried  to 
avoid  the  honour  thus  thrust  on  him.  Henri 
II  wore  the  colours  of  Diane  de  Poitiers,  be- 
lieving that  they  would  render  him  invulnera- 
ble. At  the  first  charge  Montgomery's  lance 
passed  through  an  opening  in  the  King's  visor, 
penetrated  one  eye,  and  the  wound  proved 
mortal.  His  widow,  Catherine  de  Medicis,  at 
once  left  the  Palace  of  Tournelles  and  ordered 
its  demolition.  When  the  house  had  been 
pulled  down,  the  site  was  soon  covered  with 
hovels  of  every  kind,  the  resort  of  the  lowest 
and  most  dangerous  classes  in  the  capital.  Nu- 
merous crimes  were  committed  in  that  neigh- 
bourhood ;  and  then  while  Henri  IV  was  still 
sorrowing  over  the  sudden  death  of  beautiful 
Gabrielle  d'Estrees,  Sully  suggested  the  turn- 
ing of  this  site  into  a  public  square,  and  this 
plan,  finally  adopted  in  1605  was  the  origin  of 
the  Place  Roy  ale. 

The  assassination  of  Henri  IV  prevented  his 
seeing  the  completion  of  this  project,  but  his 
instructions  were  faithfully  carried  out.  He 
had  already  built  a  certain  number  of  the 
houses  which  surround  the  vast  Court,  while  sev- 
eral others  were  being  erected  by  private  per- 


152 


PAKIS. 


sons  to  whom  lie  sold  lots  fronting  on  the 
square.  The  Place  Royale  was  inaugurated 
in  March,  1612,  by  a  tilting  tournament  in  the 
presence  of  Marie  de  Medicis,  then  Queen 
Regent,  and  twenty  thousand  spectators,  and  it 
at  once  became  a  fashionable  neighbourhood. 
The  houses  round  about  were  occupied  by  nobles 
and  princes,  the  quarter  became  known  as  the 
"  Marais,"  and  splendid  mansions,  occupied 
either  by  members  of  the  aristocracy,  or  by  the 
wealthy  middle  classes — the  haute  bourgeoisie 
as  they  were  called — were  erected  in  that  part 
of  town.  The  exterior  of  the  houses  of  the 
Place  Royale  are  to-day  precisely  what  they 
were  at  the  commencement  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  while  in  the  Marais  there  are  still 
stately  old  mansions  which  belonged  to  that 
and  the  succeeding  century.  Indeed,  here  and 
there  one  could  not  very  long  ago  run  across 
old  houses  thereabouts  that  dated  from  the 
Middle  Ages  and  the  Renaissance,  as  for  in- 
stance the  Hotel  de  St.  Paul,  the  Hotel  de 
Savoisi,  Hotel  d'Angouleme,  etc.  There  is  a 
bijou  of  a  tourelle  at  the  corner  of  the  Rues 
Francs-Bourgeois  and  Vieille-du-Temple,  which 
used  to  ornament  the  Hotel  Barbette,  a  rich 
habitation  discreetly  placed  in  a  garden  near 


AN  AFFAIR  OF  HONOUR. 


153 


the  old  ramparts  and  wherein  the  beautiful 
Queen  Isabelle  resided  while  her  mad  husband 
was  pining  away  in  the  Royal  Hotel  of  Tour- 
nelles,  and  from  whence  the  thoughtless  and 
prodigal  Louis  of  Orleans  went  the  night 
when  the  servants  of  Duke  Jean  Sans  Peur 
assassinated  him. 

During  the  reign  of  Louis  XIII  the  Place 
Roy  ale  was  the  scene  of  an  event  which  made 
a  great  stir  in  those  days.  In  1624  the  Count 
de  Boutteville,  having  killed  the  Count  de 
Thorigny  in  an  affair  of  honour,  was  condemned 
to  be  hung  for  violation  of  Richelieu's  ordi- 
nance against  duelling.  He  managed  to  es- 
cape, went  to  Brussels,  and  received  a  chal- 
lenge from  the  Marquis  de  Beuvron,  who  had 
resolved  to  avenge  the  death  of  Thorigny. 
Notwithstanding  the  sentence  that  hung  over 
his  head,  Boutteville  returned  to  Paris,  and  in 
the  presence  of  more  than  a  thousand  specta- 
tors he  and  Beuvron  met  in  the  Place  Royale. 
After  a  few  passes  with  their  swords  the  two 
principals  disarmed  each  other  by  arrangement 
and  shook  hands;  but  while  they  were  still 
talking  over  their  duel  their  seconds  continued 
the  fight,  and  one  of  the  latter  was  killed. 
The  three  others  attempted  to  escape,  were 


154 


PARIS, 


captured,  and  Count  de  Boutteville  and  one  of 
his  seconds,  Count  de  Chapelles,  were  beheaded 
on  the  Place  de  Greve.  The  Baron  de  Chantal, 
who  had  furnished  them  with  horses,  was  also 
obliged  to  fly,  leaving  behind  him  a  little 
daughter  born  in  the  Place  Royale.  Later,  she 
become  the  celebrated  Madame  de  Sevigne, 
whom  I  have  already  spoken  of. 

Some  of  these  days,  when  the  reader  is 
walking  across  the  sonorous  flagstones  of  the 
Place  Royale,  perhaps  he  will  in  imagination 
hear  the  footsteps  of  the  heroes  and  heroines 
of  those  distant  times ;  will  perhaps  find  him- 
self wondering  why  the  servants  of  Monsieur 
de  La  Rochefoucauld,  or  of  Gabrielle  d'Estrees, 
or  of  Madame  de  Montespan,  or  of  La  Tremouille 
have  not  lit  torches  to  brighten  the  way  of  their 
mistresses  or  their  masters,  and  why  the  some- 
time mansions  which  still  surround  the  statue 
and  the  silent  square,  are  all  so  dark  and  still. 
Their  names  are  not  all  known,  but  one  house 
was  occupied  by  the  Rohans,  another  by  the 
Rotrous,  a  third  by  Marion  de  Lorme,  etc. 
Not  very  many  years  ago  Mademoiselle  Rachel, 
a  great  French  actress,  rented  an  apartment  in 
the  old  Hotel  Rohan-Chabot,  and  it  was  there 
that  her  furniture  and  her  wardrobe  were  all 


A  POOR  POET'S  WIFE. 


155 


put  on  exhibition,  to  the  great  enjoyment  of 
Parisians,  after  her  death  in  1858. 

The  gros  peches  of  that  new  quarter  were 
not  committed  by  de  Lorme  alone,  however ; 
Ninon  de  PEnclos  was  also  one  of  the  beauties 
of  Satan  then,  though  happily  the  seductive 
talents  of  these  two  women  were  fairly  well 
balanced  by  the  serious  and  worthy  Mile, 
d' Aubigny,  who  called  herself  Madame  Scarron, 
of  attractive,  even  royal  memory.  Better 
known  perhaps,  as  Madame  de  Maintenon,  that 
handsome  woman  used  to  demurely  walk  beside 
the  sedan  chair  which  carried  her  invalid  hus- 
band in  the  Place  Royale,  little  dreaming  the 
day  would  come  when  she,  a  poor  poet's  wife, 
would  herself  be  carried  in  a  sedan  chair  in  the 
presence  of  a  great  army,  and  escorted  by  his 
Majesty  Louis  XIV,  now  her  royal  husband. 
Marion  de  Lorme,  who  lived  at  No.  9  of  the 
Place  Royale,  was  the  most  expensive  beauty 
in  Paris.  One  day  when  Cardinal  Richelieu 
had  the  audacity  to  offer  her  one  thousand 
pistoles  for  a  few  minutes'  private  conversation 
she  -flung  them  back  at  him  contemptuously. 
Still  she  did  not  always  sell  her  favours  :  she 
offered  them  to  Monsieur  de  Chavagnac,  who 
was  a  Huguenot,  on  the  simple  condition  that 
he  would  become  a  Catholic ;  but  he  refused. 


156 


PARIS. 


One  may  still  further  be  able  to  judge  of 
the  social  importance  of  the  Place  Roy  ale  in 
those  days  when  informed  that  not  a  prince  or 
a  beau  esprit  under  Louis  XIV  ever  missed 
going  to  that  rendezvous  of  gaiety  and  diplom- 
acy. Madame  de  Lafayette,  the  Duke  de  La 
Rochefoucauld,  the  Duchess  de  Lesdiguieres, 
the  Prince  de  Conde,  Moliere,  St.  Vincent  de 
Paule,  the  great  Corneille  and  his  brother 
Thomas,  La  Fontaine,  the  Duke  de  Montpensier 
Monsieur  de  Cinq-Mars,  who  not  else  among 
the  gallants,  the  braves,  and  the  beauties  of 
that  remarkable  period  were  then  its  frequenters. 
Even  "Son  Eminence,  Monseigneur  le  Car- 
dinal,"1 resting  on  a  red  litter,  was  often 
brought  in  to  one  of  the  salons,  for  he  too 
resided  in  the  Place  Royale  until  he  built  his 
own  palace  further  to  the  west  of  town. 

It  is  easy  to  recall  the  names  of  those  who 
frequented  its  arcaded  houses  during  those  two 
long  reigns ;  that  of  poor  Marcelle,  for  instance, 
a  beautiful  demoiselle  who  danced  splendidly, 
knew  how  to  compose  and  play  music,  could 
write  poetry,  and  who  when  abandoned  by 
Monsieur  de  Guise,  made  a  chanson  to  her 
fleeting  lover  which  was  soon  being  sung  h; 

1  Cardinal  Richelieu. 


THE  KENDEZVOUS  OF  GAIETY.  157 


every  house  around  the  square.  There  was 
the  Constable  de  Luynes,  a  man  who  stole  his 
fortune  and  was  himself  a  coward ;  Marechal 
d'Estrees,  the  worthy  brother  of  six  sisters,  one 
of  whom  was  "  la  belle  Gabrielle  "  ;  Chancel- 
lor de  Bellievre,  who  was  never  known  to  be 
angry  or  even,  vexed  in  all  his  life ;  Madame  de 
Puysieux,  whose  comic  songs  used  to  make  Cardi- 
nal Richelieu  shriek  with  laughter ;  the  Princes 
of  Orange,  the  Duke  de  Mayenne,  the  Marechal 
de  Breze,  whose  pleasure  it  was  to  obey  his 
own  servants ;  the  Marechal  de  la  Meilleraie, 
a  wonderful  besieger  of  cities,  but  who  knew 
nothing  else  whatever;  and  the  King,  Louis 
XIII,  bien  entendu.  He  was  then  a  fine  look- 
ing man  who  sat  a  horse  well,  and  knew  how  to 
put  an  army  in  the  field.  His  amours  were 
strange  enough,  but  he  had  his  virtues.  To  a 
young  woman,  the  daughter  of  a  Duke,  who 
resisted  his  attack  he  sent  ten-thousand  golden 
ecus.  Another  day,  Mademoiselle  d'Hautefort 
hid  a  note  which  she  had  received  in  her  bosom, 
and  the  King  wanted  it.  So  he  took  up  a  pair 
of  tongs  that  stood  at  the  fireplace,  wiped 
them  carefully  with  his  lace  handkerchief,  and 
used  them  to  lift  out  the  suspected  hillet-doiix. 
And  the  beautiful  Marquise  de  Eambouillet — it 


158 


PARIS. 


would  hardly  be  polite  to  leave  her  unmentioned, 
as  she  certainly  played  a  prominent  role  in 
this  monde  a  part  which  was  already  called  le 
beau  monde.  Madame  de  Rambouillet  was  a 
woman  of  exquisite  taste,  who  possessed  all  the 
elegances  of  her  charming  sex.  She,  and  she 
alone,  produced  a  revolution  in  the  art  of  arrang- 
ing the  interior  of  a  house,  and  she  was  her 
own  architect  of  the  mansion  which  she  built 
in  that  quarter  of  Paris.  From  it  when 
finished,  radiated  health  and  good  humour,  and 
it  was  there  that  that  great  power  called  la 
causerie,  was  first  established.  The  Marechal 
de  Grammont  was  one  among  a  few  of  this 
chosen  society,  and  he  was  a  great  story  teller  ; 
Gombaut  the  poet,  the  poor  Queen  of  Poland, 
and  the  Marechal  de  Bassompierre,  said  to  be 
the  wittiest  man  at  court,  were  there.  So  too 
was  Pastal,  as  were  Madame  de  Jeaucourt,  most 
beautiful  among  women,  as  she  was  also  a 
model  mother,  Cardinal  de  Retz,  Madame  de 
Corneul,  etc.  And  we  must  not  leave  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  Place  Royale  as  it  was  in 
the  olden  days,  without  again  giving  a  fleeting 
thought  to  the  mansion  from  whence  came  forth, 
fully  armed  and  equipped  to  conquer,  the  best 
French  ever  spoken  in  France. 


HOTEL  DE  LAMOIGNON. 


159 


Not  far  from  the  Place  Royale,  near  a  small 
quadrangular  tower  at  tlie  corner  of  tlie  Rues 
Pavee  and  des  Francs-Bourgeois,  which  stands 
on  three  united  arches  so  as  to  form  a  cul  de 
lampe,  and  looks,  so  to  speak,  like  a  sentinel 
box  suspended  there  especially  to  overlook  the 
square,  is  a  plate  with  this  inscription :  "  Gruil- 
laume  de  Lamoignon,  Premier  President  du 
Parliament  de  Pairs,  1658."  The  ground  on 
which  his  mansion  was  built  originally  formed 
a  part  of  a  vegetable  garden,  called  "  coulture 
Ste  Catherine,"  because  it  belonged  to  the 
Priory  of  Ste  Catherine  du  Val  des  Ecoliers, 
no  trace  of  which  remains  now,  however,  the 
ground  being  covered  by  the  little  market  of 
the  Rue  d'Ormesson. 

Toward  1550,  Henri  II  came  into  possession 
of  this  property,  and  constructed  there  a  resi- 
dence for  his  daughter,  Diana  of  France,  whose 
mother  was  believed  to  have  been  Diane  de 
Poitiers.  Souvenirs  of  that  princess  still  exist 
in  the  "  D's,"  which  crown  the  -windows,  also 
in  the  heads  of  dogs  and  stags,  and  in  the 
horns  and  crosses  in  the  arches  to  the  right  and 
left  of  the  grand  hall.  It  was  next  occupied 
by  Charles  of  Yalois,  natural  son  of  Charles 
IX,  and  who,  when  his  servants  demanded 


160 


PAEIS. 


their  wages,  replied  :  "  You  must  look  out  for 
yourselves ;  there  are  four  streets  in  front  of 
the  Hotel  (T  Angouleme  ;  it  is  a  capital  neigh- 
bourhood; now  profit  by  it." 

After  a  while  the  hotel  came  into  possession 
of  William  de  Lamoignon,  the  noblest  and 
most  illustrious  of  tenants  it  ever  had,  and  then 
the  house  returned  to  its  pristine  glory  and 
grandeur.  The  Lamoignons  were  magistrates 
for  several  generations,  and  they  left  a  good 
record,  but  the  last  of  the  family  who  occupied 
the  mansion  was  beheaded  in  1794.  Since 
then  the  mansion  has  undergone  the  fate  of 
most  grand  habitations, .  and  has  become  the 
scene  of  various  industries.  A  hosier  now  has 
his  abode  there ;  part  of  it  is  occupied  by  an 
optician;  a  druggist's  shop  is  on  the  ground 
floor;  and  a  Monsieur  Piperaud  keeps  a  modest 
school  for  boys  in  one  of  the  upper  rooms. 


CHAPTER  X. 


A  world  by  itself  in  Paris — The  Cite,  the  Universite 
and  the  Ville — Each  a  separate  town  or  division — 
The  days  of  Pierre  Abailard — Upholding  the  phil- 
osophy of  Aristotle — Letters,  art,  and  theology — 
The  work  consecrated  by  Pope  Urbain — Fighting 
students  and  peaceful  citizens — Seeking  knowledge 
while  living  in  the  open  streets — One  hundred 
thousand  pupils — The  faculty  and  its  rules — 
Anecdote  of  Peter  the  Great — Power  of  the  Sor- 
bonne — Its  theology  and  its  crimes — The  new 
University — Official  ceremony  of  1885 — The  Col- 
lege of  France — A  grand  Institution  of  human 
knowledge — Free  System  of  Education  and  open 
to  everybody. 

In  the  fifteenth  century  Paris  was  divided 
into  three  distinct  towns,  the  Cite,  the  Univer- 
sity and  the  Ville,  so  to  speak.  The  Cite  oc- 
cupied the  island;  the  town  extended  along 
the  right  shore  of  the  Seine  above  and  below 
the  island;  the  University  covered  the  plain 
and  hills  on  the  left  of  the  river.  Each  of 
these  divisions  was  a  town  h  part,  and  each 
had  its  particular  aspect.    The  Cite  was  rich- 


162 


PAKIS, 


est  in  churches,  the  Ville  was  richest  in  palaces, 
the  Universite  was  richest  in  colleges.  Most 
of  the  schools,  colleges  and  sanctuaries  of  the 
ancient  university  were  enclosed  in  a  space  of 
country  bounded  by  the  Rues  Mathurins,  de  la 
Harpe,  des  Gres  and  Saint  Jacques.  Almost 
all  the  houses  have  long  since  disappeared,  but 
there  are  enough  of  fragments  still  standing  to 
give  that  part  of  the  Quartier  Latin  a  singular 
physiognomy.  There  is  a  certain  hotel  garni, 
or  cheap  lodging-house,  which  was  once  a  part 
of  a  college  from  whose  window  poor  Pierre 
Ramus,  the  philosopher  and  grammarian,  was 
thrown  and  killed  the  night  of  St.  Bartholo- 
mew. A  few  historians  have  credited  Charle- 
magne with  founding  the  University  of  Paris, 
which-  seems  to  be  an  error,  however.  It  is 
true  the  king  who  gave  his  name  to  the  Car- 
lovingian  dynasty  tried  during  the  whole  of  his 
glorious  reign  to  make  letters  and  the  sciences 
flourish  in  his  states.  He  covered  the  newly 
born  schools  of  Chalons  and  Tours  with  his 
distinguished  protection,  but  it  is  doubtful  if 
he  established  or  supported  a  single  public 
school  at  Paris. 

The  first  persons  to  enter  on  the  work  of 
instruction  in  the  capital  were  two  monks  from 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  TEACHER.  163 


Saint  Germain  d'Auxerre  named  Rem!  and 
Hucbald  de  Saint- Amand  who  opened  a  dia- 
lectic and  theological  class.  These  two  were  so 
successful  that  other  professors  came  to  Paris 
and  soon  their  schools  became  famed  through- 
out Europe.  The  names  of  Guillaume  de 
Champeaux,  of  Pierre  Abailard,  of  Robert  de 
Melun,  of  Joscelin,  of  Pierre  Lombard,  etc., 
attracted  so  many  students  from  every  country 
in  Europe  to  Paris  that  there  were  not  enough 
houses  to  accommodate  them,  and  they  were 
compelled  to  bivouac  in  the  suburbs  like 
soldiers.  Even  the  masters  were  obliged 
sometimes  to  give  their  lessons  out  of  doors, 
and  chroniclers  inform  us  that  Abailard,  who 
was  always  followed  by  three  thousand  to 
four  thousand  disciples,  established  his  camp 
on  the  summit  of  Mount  Saint  Genevieve,  or 
out  on  the  Pre  aux  Clercs. 

That  was  the  epoch  when  the  philosophy  of 
Aristotle  was  all  the  rage  in  Paris,  and  the 
opinions  of  the  great  Stagirites,  even  the  most 
erroneous  or  the  most  curious,  were  considered 
as  articles  of  faith  in  all  the  colleges  of  the 
University.  This  frenzy,  this  delirium  was 
not  for  a  day  or  a  year  only ;  during  seven  or 
eight  centuries  the  work  of  Aristotle  was  con- 


164 


PAEIS. 


sidered  that  of  an  angel,  winch  could  not  be 
touched  or  changed  without  committing  sacri- 
lege ;  and  the  wise  but  unfortunate  Ramus 
just  now  referred  to,  was  assassinated  for  hav- 
ing publicly  declared  "  que  tout  ce  qu'Aristole 
a  enseigne  n'est  quefausete  et  chimere."  But 
more  remarkable  still,  the  Parliament  of  Paris, 
the  Parliament  of  Louis  XIV,  in  the  century 
of  Pascal,  and  of  Cornielle,  assembled  one  day 
at  the  request  of  the  Sorbonne  and  condemned 
to  banishment  three  chemists  who  had  sup- 
ported a  thesis  against  Aristotle,  adding  that 
thereafter  all  those  who  presumed  to  attack  the 
doctrines  of  that  Greek  philosopher  would  be 
put  to  death. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth  century, 
there  was  only  one  University  in  the  whole 
world  where  letters  and  the  arts  were  taught 
the  same  as  theology,  and  it  was  located  in 
the  French  capital.  This  was  why  young  men 
eager  to  be  instructed  went  to  Paris  from 
Germany,  from  Italy,  from  everywhere 
throughout  the  then  civilised  countries,  includ- 
ing England.  Already  Gerbert,  Fulherf,  and 
Abailard  had  become  famous ;  while  the  glory 
of  the  Cloitre  Notre  Dame  had  attracted  clercs 
from  nearly  every  nation  around,  when  Phil- 


CONSECRATED  BY  THE  POPE.  165 


ippe  Augustus  issued  an  order,  dated  at  Bethisy, 
in  1200,  establishing  the  University  of  Paris 
with  all  its  privileges.  In  1208  Pope  Innocent 
III,  and  then  in  1261,  Pope  Urbain  IV,  gave 
consecration  to  this  work. 

We  may  perhaps  imagine  the  appearance  of 
the  clercs  of  those  other  days,  poorly  dressed 
as  a  rule,  and  nearly  always  noisy,  going  from 
the  cloisters  of  Saint  Victor  and  of  Notre  Dame 
up  to  the  mountain  of  Sainte  Genevieve ;  and 
we  may  also  recall  the  picturesque  Paris  of 
Philippe  Augustus  and  of  Saint  Louis  as  the 
Paris  of  the  truauds,  the  framework  of  which 
is  so  masterly  drawn  by  Victor  Hugo,  if  we 
would  know  the  clercs  as  they  really  were. 
The  good  bourgeois  whose  nights  these  stu- 
dents used  to  disturb  so  often,  and  the  watch 
which  they  so  frequently  put  to  rout,  could 
hardly  have  imagined  that  the  time  would 
come  when  their  unwelcome  visitors  from  the 
University  would  be  completely  pardoned; 
for  these  same  students  who  passed  with  such 
astonishing  quickness  from  prayers  to  rowdi- 
ness  from  mysticism  to  revolt,  were  the  pioneers 
who  opened  to  human  thought  new  roads  to 
unexpected  horizons. 

And  as  the  whole  of  Europe  thus  hurried  to 


166 


PARIS, 


Paris  in  search  of  more  light,  so  were  the  stu- 
dents divided  into  "  nations,"  each  directed  by 
a  "  Procurator,"  with  its  masters  and  scholars 
under  the  controlling  hand  of  a  rector.  Thus 
there  were  the  "  trbs  honorable "  nation  of 
France,  the  "  trls  fidlle "  nation  of  Picardy, 
the  "  trses  venerable  "  nation  of  Normandy,  and, 
during  the  one  hundred  years  war,  the  "  trses 
constante "  nation  of  Germany,  which  had  re- 
placed the  nation  of  England.  There  was  no 
hesitation  about  giving  themselves  pompous 
titles  at  the  University ;  but  those  who  indulged 
in  unpleasant  words  against  Faculty  and  stu- 
dents also  knew  how  to  invent  striking  terms, 
and  there  was  no  thought  of  "  honor  ables"  or 
"venerables"  or  "  constantes "  when  it  came 
to  quarrelling.  Then  the  French  were  de- 
nounced as  u  trls  orgueilleux"  the  Picards  as 
"  trses  lourd"  the  Normans  as  "  tr£s  vantard" 
the  English  as  "  trbs  fourbe ,"  and  the  Ger- 
mans as  "  tres  zvrogne"  even  "  trses  mal 
vetu"  in  some  instances.  These  amenities 
were  of  course  launched  forth  as  a  sort  of  de- 
fiance and  with  very  loud  voices,  in  the  street, 
or  wherever  the  clashing  clans  happened  to 
meet;  sometimes  these  meetings  turned  out 
to  be  Homeric  battles,  where  more  than  one 


POVEETY  AND  PRIDE. 


167 


theologian  of  the  future  found  himself 
"  knocked  out"  early  in  the  scrimmage.  The 
rector  was  supposed  to  know  nothing  of  all 
this  so  long  as  the  noise  of  strife  was  not  so 
loud  as  to  prevent  the  king  from  sleeping; 
for  the  Church  knew  very  well  that  even 
fighting  students  would  some  day  settle  down 
to  become  good  preachers,  hence  moderation 
was  observed  whenever  these  bouts  between 
clercs  and  cits  were  brought  to  the  attention 
of  the  Procurators. 

Truly  it  was  a  world  by  itself  this  Univer- 
sity of  Paris  with  its  many  pupils,  and  no 
wonder  the  students  would  recognise  no  other 
laws  than  those  which  they  or  their  "masters  " 
had  created,  for  they  really  lived  quite  apart 
from  society. 

Usually,  and  as  a  rule,  the  students  were  as 
poor  as  Job ;  the  Spanish  bachelor  who  still 
goes  about  from  town  to  town  with  a  spoon 
and  a  fork  stuck  in  his  hat  is  a  grand  seigneur 
when  compared  with  those  poor  clercs  of  Paris ; 
while  as  for  "  working  their  way  through," 
as  so  many  sensible  and  serious  young  Ameri- 
cans are  doing  at  this  or  that  college  or  uni- 
versity, such  a  thing  would  have  been  utterly 
impossible  at  the  Paris  University  of  seven 


PARIS, 


hundred  or  eight  hundred  years  ago.  Those 
students  lived  in  miserable  lodgings;  very 
often,  not  having  the  wherewithal  to  pay  for 
lodgings,  they  were  forced  to  quit  its  shelter  and 
seek  a  night's  rest  in  the  fields,  with  the  sky 
and  the  stars  as  their  only  cover.  That  was 
all  very  well  until  winter  came,  and  snow  had 
covered  the  meadows,  and  the  river  was  frozen 
over. 

It  was  not  long  however,  until  congregations, 
towns,  charitable  Princes,  or  Bishops  who 
were  also  rich  lords,  began  to  occupy  them- 
selves with  this  pitiful  state  of  affairs,  and  they 
undertook  to  assure  at  least  a  bed,  if  not  a 
home  to  the  poor  scholars.  Do  not  imagine 
however,  that  luxury  was  anywhere  noticeable 
in  such  shelters.  Misery  still  reigned  every- 
where; not  a  dismal  misery,  but  a  misery 
spangled  with  laughter,  with  gay  propos,  the 
secrets  of  which  were  never  known  to  the 
public,  because  one  would  have  to  be  of  the 
caeriaculum  at  least  to  know  what  was  going 
on  within  the  limits  of  the  University  and  the 
Sorbonne,  to  know  how  to  laugh,  fight  and 
be  gay  while  studying  hard  and  while  half 
starving.  And  when  in  their  worst  days 
u  Messieurs   les   Clercs  "  went   h  la  pitance, 


SQUATTING  IN  STRAW. 


169 


that  is  to  say,  to  seek  for  body  nourishment,1 
they  were  glad  to  accept  left-over  vegetables 
on  the  Place  Maubert,  or  broken  bread  and 
bits  of  weak  soup  now  and  then  in  payment  of 
a  prayer  or  of  a  chanson. 

Back  yonder  in  the  thirteenth  century  they 
did  not  even  have  benches ;  and  later,  when  it 
was  proposed  to  put  in  stone  seats,  Cardinal 
d'Estouteville  who  had  studied  on  straw,  op- 
posed it  with  might  and  main  because  it  would 
encourage  sybaritism.  He  gained  his  cause, 
and  the  straw  remained.  The  scholars,  grouped 
around  masters,  frequently  younger  than  them- 
selves— the  master,  dressed  in  a  black  robe  and 
wearing  a  cowl  or  hood,  respectable  while  in 
class,  but  perhaps  quite  as  lively  as  his  pupils 
at  other  moments — squatted  in  this  straw  and 
thus  inhaled  the  knowledge  of  that  period. 

There  is  to-day  an  old  street  in  Paris  called 
the  Rue  du  Fouarre,  that  is  to  say,  the  street 
of  straw,  and  that  name  was  attached  to  it  in 
the  old  University  days.  Teaching  still  goes 
on  in  the  Eue  du  Fouarre,  but  there  is  no  longer 
straw  in  its  schoolrooms.  But  primitive  in- 
stallation did  not  prevent  the  cultivation  of 

1  The  Principal  and  the  Regents  saw  to  it  that  their 
minds  and  souls  were  fed. 


170 


PARIS. 


those  letters  and  that  grammar  which  prepared 
minds  with  the  special  sophistry  of  disputed 
doctrines,  and  which  finished  by  giving  birth 
in  the  "  Facultes  des  Arts  "to  an  impertinent 
tendency  toward  a  scepticism  that  the  theologi- 
cal faculty  could  hardly  control — with  loving 
energy,  however. 

All  the  hours  of  the  many  students  were 
counted,  and  it  would  be  a  great  mistake  to 
suppose  that  they  passed  their  time  in  outdoor 
mischief.  They  had  their  lessons  "  ordinaires  " 
given  by  the  licentiates  and  the  doctors,  and 
their  lessons  "  extraordinaires"  at  which  the 
bachelors  took  part ;  but  if  most  of  the  classes 
began  work  at  daybreak,  very  likely  it  was  be- 
cause the  poor  pupils  were  glad  to  quit  their 
miserable  beds  for  the  college  straw. 

It  was  also  in  the  thirteenth  century  when  a 
reunion  of  those  studies  or  faculties  were  desig- 
nated for  the  first  time  under  the  name  of 
Universite.  But  while  thus  organising  hier- 
archically, the  University  also  determined  to 
maintain  its  civil  corporation,  and  the  masters 
succeeded  in  obtaining  from  the  king  some 
special  franchises,  among  others  the  freedom  of 
students  from  ordinary  jurisdiction;  so  that, 
under  all  circumstances,  they  could  only  be  tried 


BEGGING  ABOUT  THE  STRBTS;  171 


and  judged  in  accordance  with  canonical  law 
by  the  Ecclesiastical  tribune  of  the  place  where 
they  were  studying. 

One  can  readily  understand  the  power  with 
which  a  population  of  one  hundred  thousand 
young  men  in  a  city  of  the  Middle  Ages  was 
thus  armed.  They  formed  but  one  body,  hav- 
ing the  same  occupations,  the  same  tastes,  the 
same  habits,  independent  by  character  and  by 
position,  passionate,  impatient  against  all  author- 
ity, and  of  course  natural  enemies  of  the  bour- 
geois who  had  a  good  fire,  a  good  bed,  and  a 
good  table,  while  they,  depending  mainly  on 
the  two  sous  per  week  which  had  been  decreed 
to  them  by  Saint  Louis,  went  begging  in  the 
streets  accompanied  by  cagons  and  bohemiens. 

It  must  indeed  have  been  a  curious  institu- 
tion, the  University  of  Paris  in  the  Middle 
Ages  !  There  is  something  of  the  same  kind  of 
independence,  the  same  sort  of  passion  and  im- 
patience, in  that  part  of  the  capital  to-day,  and 
yet  the  noisy  conduct  of  the  students  of  the 
Latin  Quarter  now  is  but  a  pale  reflect  of  the 
actions  on  the  Pre  aux  Clercs — orgies  accessible 
only  to  the  initiated,  and  into  which  none  but 
those  who  knew  the  shibboleth  dared  to  ven- 
ture. 


172 


PARIS. 


"  It  was  the  poor,"  says  an  ancient  author, 
"  whom  Robert  Sorbonne  intended  to  aid,"  and 
poverty  was  undoubtedly  the  main  attribute  of 
the  Sorbonne  in  its  early  days.  For  a  very 
long  time  it  was  really  poor,  and  even  after  the 
liberalities  of  Cardinal  Richelieu  had  enriched 
it,  it  retained  the  title  of  "  poor  "  as  among  the 
noblest  of  its  titles  of  nobility.  From  the  be- 
ginning doctors,  bachelors,  beneficiaries  and  non- 
beneficiaries,  as  well  as  all  poor  students,  were 
admitted  free  to  the  college  of  the  Sorbonne. 
They  were  designated  as  guests  or  as  associates, 
and  they  were  received  without  regard  to  the 
country  from  whence  they  came.  Later  the 
associate  beneficiaries  took  the  title  of  Docteurs, 
or  Bacheliers  de  la  Maison  et  Societe  de  Sor- 
bonne, while  the  others  were  simply  called 
Bacheliers  de  la  Maison  de  Sorbonne.  The 
founder  had  directed  its  first  buildings  in  the 
Rue  Coupe-Gorge,  afterwards  called  the  Rue 
des  Deux  Portes.  Soon  all  the  other  houses 
and  land  on  the  street  as  far  as  the  Rue  des 
Poirees  were  purchased  and  occupied.  The 
chapel  that  had  been  dedicated  to  the  Virgin, 
and  which  was  rebuilt  in  1326,  was  in  the  Rue 
des  Cordiers. 

This  college  was  falling  into  ruins  when 


AN  EMINENT  CARDINAL.  173 


Cardinal  Richelieu,  who  had  studied  theology 
there,  and  who  was  its  proviseur,  undertook  to 
build  it  on  a  new  plan.  The  Archbishop  of 
Rouen  laid  the  first  stone  of  the  grand  salle 
in  1627,  and  on  May  15,  1633,  the  Cardinal 
himself  laid  the  first  stone  of  the  church  which 
still  exists  and  which  was  not  completed  until 
1653.  As  may  be  supposed  his  Eminence  did 
not  fail  to  place  inscriptions  on  it  calculated  to 
satisfy  his  vanity,  and  which  even  his  un- 
doubted merit  will  hardly  prove  excuse  for. 
Such  for  instance  as  the  one  that  still  sur- 
mounts the  door  of  the  church. 

DEO  OPT.  MAX-ARMAJ5TDUS,  CARDINALIS  DE 
RICHELIEU. 

Still  one  cannot  too  highly  admire  the  fine 
proportions  that  exist  between  the  various 
parts  of  the  building.  Everything  is  well  co- 
ordinated ;  the  points  of  view  are  so  well 
selected  that,  combining  their  mutual  beauties, 
they  form  a  harmonious  whole.  The  dome 
which  crowns  the  church  is  not  very  high ;  it 
has  four  towers  ornamented  by  statues  with 
bands  of  gilded  lead,  and  is  surmounted  by  a 
gold  cross  which  forms  the  crowning  point  of 
the  building. 


174 


PAKIS. 


Inside  the  church  may  still  be  seen  a  tomb 
of  Richelieu,  in  white  marble,  which  was 
erected  in  1694.  At  the  time  of  the  Revolu- 
tion it  was  removed  to  a  Museum,  where  it 
remained  until  1814,  when  it  was  carried  back 
to  the  church.  It  was  at  the  sight  of  this 
monument  that  Peter  the  Great  exclaimed  : 

"  Oh,  great  man  !  if  you  were  only  alive  I 
would  give  you  one-half  of  my  Empire  to  teach 
me  how  to  govern  the  other  half." 

The  Abbe  Duvernet  gives  the  following 
account  of  how  the  degree  of  Doctor  was  to  be 
obtained  in  his  day  at  the  Sorbonne.  "  It  was 
necessary  to  have  studied  at  the  college,  and 
for  a  period  of  ten  years,  to  have  argued,  dis- 
puted and  delivered  in  public  certain  theses 
which  were  divided  into  minor,  greetor,  saba- 
tine,  tentative  and  into  the  little  and  the  great 
sorbonique.  In  this  last  the  candidate  for  the 
degree  of  doctor  had,  without  eating  or  drink- 
ing or  leaving  his  place,  to  sustain  and  repel" 
the  attacks  of  twenty  assailants  called  ergo- 
teurs,  who,  relieving  each  other  every  half 
hour,  argued  with  him  from  six  o'clock  A.  m.  to 
seven  p.  m." 

If  we  now  proceed  to  examine  the  spirit  that 
nearly  always  governed  the  Faculty  of  the  Sor- 


POWER  OF  THE  SORBONNE.  175 


bonne  we  shall  find  that  those  who  may  think 
that  it  was  in  agreement  with  the  title  of  "  poor 
house  "  (paavre  maison),  which  it  had  adopted, 
are  mistaken.  Its  poor  masters  were  not  long 
in  departing  from  their  primitive  humility.  As 
member  of  a  Theological  faculty  a  master  ob- 
tained the  right  to  pass  judgment  without  ap- 
peal on  all  works  and  on  all  opinions.  He  also 
assumed  to  submit  to  his  jurisdiction,  under 
certain  circumstances,  even  the  popes  and  the 
kings. 

The  following  passage  from  VEtoile,  or  jour- 
nal of  Henri  III,  will  show  how  greatly  the 
role  of  the  Sorbonne  had  changed,  and  what 
would  have  been  said  about  these  masters  had 
it  not  been  for  a  wholesome  fear  of  burning 
faggots:  61  Thereupon  the  Sorbonne,  that  is  to 
say,  thirty  or  forty  pedants,  masters  of  arts 
who  after  grace  disposed  of  sceptres  and  crowns 
in  their  college,  on  the  16th  of  this  month  (De- 
•  cember,  1587)  delivered  a  secret  decision  to  the 
effect  that  princes  who  were  not  as  they  should 
be,  might  lawfully  be  deprived  of  their  govern- 
ments." 

Two  years  later  the  same  journal  says :  "The 
Sorbonne  declared  that  all  the  subjects  of  the 
Kino;  were  absolved  from  the  oath  of  obedience 


176 


PARIS. 


and  fidelity  which  they  had  sworn  to  Henri  of 
Valois." 

A  good  many  other  excesses  marked  the 
power  of  the  Sorbonne  and  which  on  that  ac- 
count was  nicknamed  the  Sorbonne  Bourguig- 
nonne  and  the  Sorbonne  Anglaise.  The  first 
was  given  to  it  in  1407  when  it  took  the  part 
of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  against  the  Duke  of 
Orleans,  while  those  two  Princes  were  disput- 
ing for  the  government  of  France.  On  the 
occasion  of  the  death  of  Orleans,  who  was  not 
without  certain  good  qualities,  Doctor  Jean 
Petit  delivered  from  the  pulpit  an  eulogy  of 
his  assassin.  The  Sorbonne  was  nicknamed 
Anglaise  after  the  misfortunes  of  King  John 
and  the  invasion  of  France  by  the  English,  and 
it  remained  until  the  very  last  moment  favour- 
able to  the  cause  of  the  enemies  of  France.  It 
was  the  Faculty  of  the  Sorbonne  who  wrote  to 
the  Duke  Bourgogne,  to  the  King  of  England, 
and  to  the  Duke  of  Bedford,  asking  them  to 
*  deliver  Jeanne  d'Arc  over  to  Doctor  Pierre 
Cauchon,  who  would  judge  and  burn  her.  In 
a  letter  to  Bedford  the  Sorbonne  said :  "  You 
have  used  your  noble  power  to  apprehend  this 
woman  who  calls  herself  pucelle  .  .  .  . 
and  it  would  be  an  intolerable  offence  against 


CRIMES  AND  PERSECUTIONS.  177 


the  Divine  Majesty  if  she  were  set  free."  The 
letter  to  England's  King  was  a  bold  demand 
that  the  Maid  should  be  sent  to  judgment,  so 
she  was  delivered  over  to  a  minister  of  God, 
who  is  known  in  history  under  the  names  of 
indigne  pritre,  of  indigne  eveque,  of  indigne 
frangais. 

Later,  the  Sorbonne  was  called  guizarde  and 
espagttole,  the  first  because  it  attracted  itself  to 
the  Guise  faction,  the  second  because  it  again 
sympathised  with  a  foreign  foe  (Spanish) 
against  France. 

Finally,  under  Louis  XIV  and  Louis  XV, 
the  Sorbonne  was  known  as  the  Ultramontaine, 
and  became  in  turn  Janseniste  and  Moliniste, 
and  at  all  times  it  was  for  persecuting  those 
who  did  not  agree  with  it  in  all  things.  But 
the  history  of  its  many  crimes  is  too  long  to 
relate  in  these  pages.  What  must  be  said, 
however,  is  that  in  all  its  earlier  periods  the 
Sorbonne  had  been  the  firm  supporter  of  igno- 
rance and  fanaticism.  Its  gravest  persecutions 
were :  the  burning  of  Jeanne  d'Arc ;  the  im- 
prisonment of  Marot,  the  poet;  the  death  of 
Remus;  the  recantation  of  Doctor  d'Espence, 
forced  from  him  by  torture ;  the  condemnation 
of  Charon;  the  deposing  of  Richer;  the  dis- 


178 


PAEIS, 


grace  with  which  it  covered  Arnaud ;  the  cen- 
sures it  passed  on  Descartes;  the  ridiculous 
process  which  it  instituted  against  the  Jesuits 
on  account  of  the  Chinese;  and,  finally,  the 
persecutions  that  it  attempted  against  Montes- 
quieu, Helvetius,  Rousseau,  Buffon  and  Mar- 
montel.  It  never  stopped  its  acts  of  bigotry 
and  oppression  until  the  light  of  philosophy 
had  dispelled  barbarous  darkness,  had  unveiled 
the  intrigues  of  fanatics,  had  given  to  France 
the  hope  of  more  happy  days. 

There  is  this  much  to  be  said  in  favour  of  the 
Sorbonne,  however.  The  credit  of  introducing 
printing  into  Paris  belongs  to  it.  In  1469, 
when  Jean  Heynlin  was  Prior,  printers  were 
brought  from  Mayence,  and  under  the  eyes  of 
the  Faculty  books  were  printed.1  The  Sor- 
bonne was  suppressed  by  the  Revolution  in 
1790,  and  in  1808  the  entire  edifice  was  given 
to  the  University. 

In  creating  a  new  University,  Napoleon  I 
established  at  the  Sorbonne  the  chief  residence 
of  the  Academy  at  Paris,  the  three  Faculties  of 
letters,  science,  and  theology.    En  jiassant,  it 

1  It  is  true  that  Guillaume  Eichet  and  Jean  de  La 
Pierre,  the  two  doctors  who  brought  in  these  printers, 
were  honoured  by  being  persecuted  by  their  colleagues 
for  having  done  so. 


WORK  OF  THE  REPUBLIC.  179 


may  be  mentioned  that  two  other  Faculties, 
medicine  and  law,  have  now  each  their  own 
building  in  that  same  part  of  town.  In  1815 
the  church,  which  was  then  almost  wholly  oc- 
cupied by  sculptors  as  a  studio,  was  restored  to 
its  original  use,  and  for  a  time,  when  the  cele- 
brated Choron  led  the  singing  of  the  Sorbonne 
pupils,  it  was  famous  for  the  music  of  its  reli- 
gious services. 

In  January,  1885,  the  present  writer  wit- 
nessed the  laying  of  the  second  "  cornerstone  " 
of  the  new  Sorbonne.  The  first  one  had  been 
placed  during  the  Second  Empire,  several  years 
before,  when  M.  Fortoul  was  Minister  of  Pub- 
lic instruction.  Then  they  celebrated  the  event 
in  the  language  of  Demosthenes  and  Cicero, 
and  a  brilliant  future  was  predicted  for  the 
edifice  which  they  were  about  to  add  to  the 
one  erected  in  the  days  of  Richelieu.  But 
the  trowel  had  hardly  got  to  work  when  the 
sceptre  of  majesty  fell  from  Louis  Napoleon's 
hand  and  a  republic  was  proclaimed.  It  was 
not  until  three  Presidents  had  teen  chosen  by 
the  people's  representatives  that  this  second 
stone  was  laid,  and  this  time  it  was  French  not 
Latin  that  was  spoken  by  those  who  were  re- 
sponsible for  the  eloquence  of  the  occasion. 


180 


PARIS. 


u  Thence  to  the  Sorbonne.  The  library  very- 
large  :  not  in  lattices,  like  the  King's.  Mar- 
bone  and  Durani:  collection  fourteen  vols. 
The  Prior  and  Librarian  dined  with  us.  Their 
garden  pretty,  with  covered  walks,  but  small. 
The  Doctors  of  the  Sorbonne  are  all  equal: 
choose  those  who  succeed  to  vacancies  :  Profit 
little.  .  .  .  '  Maitre-es-Arts,'  2y. ;  6  Licen- 
tiate/ 2y. ;  c  Bacc.  Theol.  ,  3y. ;  for  the  Doc- 
torate, three  disputations,  Doctor,  Major, 
Minor,  Sorbonica.  Several  colleges  suppressed 
and  transferred  to  that  which  was  the  Jesuit's 
College."  Such  are  the  meagre  and  fragmen- 
tary notices  found  among  the  manuscripts  of 
Dr.  Samuel  Johnson,  and  relating  to  the  famous 
place  of  University  education  to  which  we 
were  bidden  eighteen  years  ago,  and  when  M. 
Jules  Ferry  was  Minister  of  Public  Instruc- 
tion and  orator  of  the  day.  Dr.  Johnson  con- 
descends to  indulge  in  a  little  more  detail  when 
he  tells  us  how  he  dined  with  the  Benedictines, 
oif  herb  soup,  herrings,  eels — both  with  sauce 
— and  " lentils,  tasteless  in  themselves;"  but  at 
the  time  of  his  visit  to  the  French  capital  the 
great  lexicographer  was  aged  and  sick  and 
wearied,  and  he  had  no  more  to  say  about 
France  than  his  fellow  hypochondriac,  Smollet, 


NOT  LIKE  OTHER  UNIVERSITIES.  181 


had  to  say  about  Italy.  Had  it  been  otherwise 
what  a  noble  theme  for  the  Johnsonian  pen 
might  have  been  found  in  an  establishment  the 
decision  of  whose  Faculty  of  Theology  had  in 
days  gone  by,  almost  Pontifical  authority  in 
the  Gallican  church ! 

It  may  be  stated  just  here  that  the  Paris  Sor- 
bonne  is  not  at  all  like  Oxford  or  Cambridge, 
although  the  contrary  of  this  assertion  is  some- 
times declared  by  English  and  American  writ- 
ers. The  first  named  is  the  Alma  Mater  of 
many  students  belonging  to  a  grade  rarely  to  be 
found  at  England's  great  historic  Universities. 
It  is  a  teaching  as  well  as  an  examining  body,  its 
lectures  are  public  and  gratuitous,  including  a 
faculty  of  secondary  instruction  for  girls,f ounded 
in  1867,  and  the  fees  payable  on  admission  to 
a  doctor's  degree  do  not  amount  to  more  than 
sixteen  dollars.  It  has  a  Faculty  of  Theology, 
which,  since  1854,  has  been  followed  with  tol- 
erable assiduity;  but  the  vast  majority  of  the 
French  clergy  pass  from  the  Petit  to  the  Grand 
Seminaire,  and  thence  directly  to  the  priest- 
hood, without  thinking  of  graduating  at  the 
Sorbonne,  which  at  the  present  moment  is  the 
reverse  either  of  a  clerical  or  an  aristocratic  in- 
stitution.    The  existing  attitude  of  the  old 


182 


PARIS, 


French  nobility  toward  the  Republic  is  one  of 
persistent  opposition,  and  the  sons  of  the  great- 
est families  in  France  are  being  educated  either 
at  home  by  clerical  tutors  or  in  J esuit  Colleges. 
On  the  other  hand  the  great  Lycees  of  Charle- 
magne and  Louis  le  Grand,  and  the  colleges  both 
of  the  State  and  the  municipality  overflow  with 
the  children  of  the  intelligent  middle  classes, 
who,  when  they  have  passed  through  the  higher 
grades  of  the  local  schools,  must  go  to  the  Sor- 
bonne  to  pass  their  examinations  for  the  de- 
grees of  the  "  Baccalaureat "  or  "Doctoraten 
Droit." 

It  would  be  untrue  to  say  we  heard  no 
Latin  at  all  spoken  at  the  ceremony  of  1885,  for 
the  traditional  congratulatory  speech  was  deliv- 
ered in  that  classic  tongue,  but  that  was  its  last 
time.  French  scholars  are,  as  a  rule,  excellent 
Latinists  so  far  as  fluency  and  accuracy  of  prose 
writing  go,  although  in  poetics  they  shine 
neither  as  writers  nor  as  critics ;  and  it  was  at 
first  blush  not  easy  to  understand  why  on  a 
momentous  public  occasion,  and  in  the  hall  of 
an  ancient  Academy,  the  speech  of  old  Rome 
was  for  the  future  to  be  banished  from  an 
academic  celebration. 

The  University  of  Paris  did  not,  of  course, 


AN"  OFFICIAL  CEREMONY. 


183 


intend  to  discontinue  the  teaching  of  Latin  or 
to  with  old  rewards  for  proficiency,  in  that 
learned  language,  but  the  simple  truth  was  that 
the  officials  of  the  period  had  arrived  at  the 
conclusion    that    the  Sorbonne  had  labored 
quite  long  enough  under  the  imputation  of  ex- 
cessive pedantry  and  scholastic  long-winded- 
ness.     Rabelais  had  laughed  the  "  Doctor es 
Sordonicae  "  to  scorn  nearly  three  centuries  be- 
fore ;  Moliere's  ridicule,  although  more  oblique, 
was  scarcely  less  scathing;  and  in  our  own 
times,  not  a  year  had  passed  without  the  Latin 
orations  of  the  Sorbonne  being  derided  and 
parodied  by  the  incorrigible  persifleurs  of  the 
Parisian  press.    It  is,  however,  worthy  of  re- 
mark that  the  Professor  of  Rhetoric  who  de- 
livered the  customary  harangue  that  afternoon 
seemed  to  have  made  up  his  mind  that  if  there 
were  to  be  no  more  Latin  speeches  at  the  Sor- 
bonne the  last  should  at  all  events  be  a  good 
one ;  and  he  delivered  a  telling  and  eloquent 
dissertation  on  the  theme,  "  In  what  the  Re- 
public should  be  Eminent  and  Excel,"  in  which 
he,  with  much  dexterity,  eulogised  a  Republi- 
can form  of  government,  alluded  to  the  recent 
distribution  of  flags  to  the  army,  and  wound  up 
by  fervently  exhorting  the  youth  of  France  to 


184 


PARIS. 


work  for  her  happiness  and  prosperity.  Thus, 
amid  enthusiastic  applause,  the  curtain  fell  on 
a  very  clever  exercitation,  and  with  the  utmost 
propriety  the  orator  might  have  said  to  his 
audience,  "  Pladite — et  valete,  "  for  they  were 
to  hear  no  more  of  that  kind  of  thing  at  the 
Sorbonne. 

Monsieur  Jules  Ferry's  speech  was  in  French, 
and  it  was  a  masterful  exposition  of  what  the 
Government  of  the  Republic  intended  to  do  in 
the  future  for  the  youth  of  France.  A  system 
of  thorough  innovation  and  reform  was  thence- 
forth to  be  adopted  in  the  different  stages  on 
school  and  University  education.  The  study 
of  the  dead  languages  was  to  receive  a  fresh 
impetus  on  a  totally  new  basis.  Instead  of 
boys  living  ten  years  by  the  side  of  antiquity 
without  understanding  it,  they  would  learn  to 
read  Latin  instead  of  writing  it,  and  the  ground 
lost  by  grammar  would  be  won  by  the  love  of 
letters.  Scholars  in  the  elementary  classes 
would  receive  instruction  in  a  much  more  at- 
tractive form  than  that  which  had  hitherto  been 
imparted.  French  and  other  modern  languages, 
object  lessons,  mental  arithmetic,  and  the  ele- 
ments of  science  would  take  up  a  portion  of  the 
time  hitherto  devoted  by  younger  pupils  to  the 


"TINE  PEPINIERE  DE  PROFESSETTRS."  185 


study  of  the  classics;  and  the  University  of 
France,  instead  of  being,  as  theretofore,  watched 
and  disparaged  by  its  rivals,  ruled  by  its  tra- 
ducers,  and  half-heartedly  defended  by  the 
State,  would  possess,  under  the  remodelled 
Supreme  Council,  a  dignity  and  independence 
which  no  order  of  government,  save  a  Republi- 
can one,  could  give.  This  was  the  sum  and 
substance  of  the  promise  made  that  .afternoon 
by  the  French  government,  and  in  my  opinion, 
the  Republic  has  nobly  kept  its  word  in  all 
things  pertaining  to  public  instruction.  It  did 
not  completely  succeed  in  this  immediately,  and 
it  has  taken  years  of  hard  work  to  make  the 
change  and  to  make  the  progress ;  but  it  has 
been  done,  as  will  be  shown  further  along  in 
this  work. 

As  for  the  Sorbonne  it  is  at  present  almost 
exclusi  vely  what  the  French  call,  "  Une  pepi- 
nierede  Professeurs,"  or  nursery  for  prof essors. 
In  other  days  it  was,  as  has  been  already  stated, 
a  theological  caeniaculum,  and  its  classes  consti- 
tuted a  sort  of  permanent  council.  To-day  it 
has  its  Doctors  also — liacal  Doctors  for  the 
Faculties  of  letters  and  sciences,  Ecclesiastical 
Doctors  for  that  of  theology ;  but  the  doctrines 
which  these  profess  are  varied.    However,  the 


186 


PARIS. 


instruction  taught  by  all  its  Faculties  in  recent 
years  has  gained  in  force  and  seriousness ;  and 
each  year  sees  a  new  lot  of  young  Professors 
leaving  the  Sorbonne  to  go  and  take  their 
places  in  the  Lycees  and  Colleges  of  France  to 
give  the  children  of  the  Republic  that  healthy, 
wholesome  knowledge  which  will  enable  them 
to  march  victoriously  along  the  road  of  progress 
opened  for  them  and  for  the  whole  world  by 
their  forebears. 

The  College  of  France  was  founded  in  1530 
by  Frangois  I,  as  an  institution  outside  of  the 
University,  and  perhaps  against  it,  in  view  of 
the  gratuitous  superior  instruction  which  it  was 
to  give.  The  idea  was  that  of  Guillaume 
Bude  and  of  Jean  de  Bellay,  in  favour  of  whom 
the  chairs  of  Greek  and  Hebrew  were  founded. 
Soon  a  third  chair  was  created  for  Latin,  and 
hence  the  name,  u  College  des  Trois  Langues," 
which  the  institution  has  always  borne. 
Little  by  little  the  sciences  were  added  to 
belles  lettres,  so  that  by  1545  there  were  eleven 
chairs  occupied  by  Professors,  that  is  to  say, 
seven  charged  with  Hebrew,  Greek,  and  Latin, 
two  with  mathematics,  and  one  each  for  medi- 
cine and  philosophy.  Doctor  Vidus  Vicius, 
the  King's  physician,  occupied  the  chair  of 
medicine. 


THE  COLLEGE  OP  FRANCE.  187 


Under  succeeding  kings  the  College  of 
Prance  continued  its  growth  and  excellence. 
Charles  IX  introduced  surgery ;  Henri  III, 
Arabic;  Henri  IV,  Botany  and  Astronomy; 
under  Louis  XIII,  instruction  in  law  was  in- 
troduced and  the  name  of  the  institution  be- 
came College  Royal.  Nothing  of  great  impor- 
tance occurred  after  that  until  in  the  reign  of 
Louis  XV,  when  the  chair  of  French  Litera- 
ture was  founded,  its  first  occupant  being  Jean 
Louis  Aubert,  the  fabulist. 

It  was  called  College  National  during  the 
Revolution,  and  College  Imperial  during  the 
Empire,  when  Napoleon  I  created  a  chair  for 
the  Turkish  language  and  history.  The  Res- 
toration showed  less  respect  for  its  Professors 
than  had  the  Convention,  as  the  latter  in- 
creased their  pay,  while  the  former  not  only 
reduced  it  again  but  dismissed  many  teachers 
from  their  chairs,  and  they  were  out  until 
after  the  Revolution  of  July.  Meanwhile  two 
new  chairs,  Sanscrit  and  Chinese,  had  been 
founded.  Finally  it  was  called  the  College  de 
France,  the  name  it  now  bears.  In  its  origin 
it  had  no  special  local,  and  its  classes  were  con- 
ducted in  the  different  colleges  of  the  Univer- 
sity; but  in  1611  a  house  was  built  for  it, 


188 


PAEIS. 


this  was  reconstructed  in  1774,  in  1831  the 
Institution  was  sensibly  enlarged  by  order  of 
Louis  Philippe,  and  it  tlien  liad  twenty-two 
professors. 

It  is  now  a  grand  institution  of  learning, 
counting  no  fewer  than  forty-one  or  forty-two 
chairs.  Modern  French  language  and  literature, 
the  French  language  and  literature  of  the  Me- 
diaeval Ages,  ancient  and  modern  history,  Greek 
language  and  literature,  Latin  eloquence  and 
Latin  poesy,  Hebrew,  Chaldaic,  Syrian,  Arabic, 
Persian,  and  Turkish  languages,  the  Sanscrit, 
Chinese,  Tartar,  Mandchoues,  and  Sclav  liter- 
atures, the  languages  and  literature  of  modern 
Europe,  Greek  and  Latin  philosophy,  history 
and  morals,  natural  laws  and  human  rights, 
legislative  histories,  political  economy,  ar- 
chaeology, mathematics,  astronomy,  mathe- 
matical and  general  physics,  experimental  and 
general  physics,  medicine,  chemistry,  natural 
history  of  organic  and  inorganic  bodies, 
comparative  embryology,  etc.,  are  all  taught 
now  in  public  classes,  and  which,  with  the 
lectures,  are  quite  free  to  everybody.  It  does 
not  depend  in  the  slightest  on  the  University, 
but  is  under  the  direction  of  the  Minister  of 
Public  Instruction. 


FEEE  SYSTEM  OF  EDUCATION. 


189 


The  late  Ernest  Renan  was  administrateur 
of  the  College  of  France  during  many  years, 
and  was  occupying  that  high  position  when 
death  removed  him  from  this  world.  Then 
Professor  Boissier  was  appointed  Adminis- 
trator of  the  College  of  France,  and,  if  I  mis- 
take not,  is  still  at  the  head  of  it. 

The  young  men  who  .attend  its  classes  take 
thence  large  ideas  independent  of  prejudices 
and  free  from  narrowness.  In  a  word,  the 
College  of  France  is  an  institution  of  human 
knowledge,  but  so  large  has  it  grown,  so  many 
the  buildings  which  it  now  uses,  so  great  the 
aid  rendered  by  it  in  every  direction,  that  it 
may  be  said  of  it,  it  is  no  longer  a  palace  sup- 
ported by  a  king,  it  is  an  Educational  Town 
maintained  wholly  by  the  French  Republic, 
and  where  everything  is  free  to  all  the  world. 
Unlike  at  the  Sorbonne,  where  it  is  almost  im- 
possible to  obtain  permission  to  be  present  at 
any  of  the  lectures,  any  one  may  profit  by  the 
large  and  intelligent  instruction  given  at  the 
College  de  France. 

These  two  great  establishments  :  the  Uni- 
versity with  its  auxiliaries, — the  Faculty  of 
Protestant  theology,  Faculty  of  Medicine, 
Faculty  of  Law,  and  Superior  School  of  Phar- 


190 


PARIS. 


macy — and  the  College  of  France  with  its 
auxiliaries — the  Bureau  of  Longitudes,  the 
Observatory,  the  Museum  of  Natural  History, 
the  Meteorological  Bureau — these  two,  to- 
gether with  the  Conservatoire  des  Arts  et 
Metiers,  the  Conservatoire  National  de 
Musique  et  de  Declamation,  the  Ecole  Cen- 
trale  of  Arts  and  Manufactures,  the  Beaux 
Arts,  the  National  School  of  Decorative  Arts, 
the  French  Academy  at  Rome,  the  National 
School  of  Chartes,  the  Superior  Normal  School, 
the  National  School  of  Roads  and  Bridges,  the 
Superior  School  of  Mines,  the  Special  School 
of  Architecture,  the  National  Manufactory  of 
Porcelains,  the  National  Manufactury  of  the 
Gobelins,  the  National  Manufactory  of  Mosaics, 
seventeen  or  eighteen  Lycees,  half  a  dozen 
Municipal  Colleges,  with  some  fourteen  or  fif- 
teen Municipal  Schools  in  Paris,  where  indus- 
trial and  commercial  problems,  the  application 
of  the  fine  arts  to  industry,  the  preparation  of 
girls  for  clerical  work,  or  what  not  else  that  is 
useful  and  practical  in  daily  life  are  being 
taught  by  competent  men  and  women, — form ' 
the  free  system  of  education  that  is  encouraged 
by  the  French  Republic  and  its  great  capital ; 
and  over  all  is  the  Minister  of  Public  Instruc- 
tion, who  is  also  Rector  of  the  University. 


PART  TWO. 


"  Shrine  of  the  mighty  !  can  it  be 
That  this  is  all  remains  of  thee  ?  " 

Lord  Byron, 


CHAPTER  XI. 


Le  Grand  Siecle — Why  Louis  XIV  created  Versailles — 
Its  immense  Chateau  and  magnificent  gardens — 
The  large  courtyard  and  its  monuments — An  as- 
tonishing edifice  which  housed  five  thousand  per- 
sons— The  park,  terrace,  and  fountains — Millions 
of  money  expended  and  thousands  of  lives  sac- 
rificed —  His  Majesty's  vegetable  grounds  and 
orangery — Incidents  of  historical  interest — The 
Chateau  of  Vincennes — Its  notorious  Donjon — 
Magnificent  panorama  of  town  and  country. 

With  the  coming  on  to  the  stage  of  that 
majestic  figure  in  history  known  as  Louis  XIV 
begins  what  is  sometimes  called  "  Le  Grand 
Siecle."  In  other  words,  and  inasmuch  as 
that  monarch  reigned  for  more  than  seventy 
years,  the  period  has  been  designated  as  the 
century  of  the  "  Roi  Soleil."  No  one  will 
deny  that  it  was  a  century  of  almost  eternal 
festivals  and  of  magnificence,  all  gold  on  one 
side  of  the  shield,  perhaps,  but  on  the  other 
one  single  word,  bankruptcy. 

Montesquieu,  who  knew  Louis  XIV,  said 
of  him :  "  II  a  Tair  d'un  grand  Roi,"  and  yet 


194 


PARIS. 


that  great  King  was  a  very  ignorant  man  who 
barely  knew  how  to  read  and  write.  But  he 
knew  how  to  bring  on  wars,  how  to  prolong 
the  crimes  of  Saint  Bartholomew,  how  to  drive 
half  a  million  of  French  people  from  their 
native  land.  In  that  almost  unknown  country 
called  Thibet  a  man  is  god  before  whom  mil- 
lions on  millions  of  adorers  prostrate  themselves 
as  true  believers  in  his  quasi-divinity.  In 
France,  during  the  latter  part  of  the  seven- 
teenth and  the  early  part  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  there  was  a  man  who  also  believed 
in  the  quasi-divinity  of  one  man,  none  other 
than  himself,  however,  that  is  to  say,  Louis 
XIV.  He  believed  that  his  birth  was  a 
miracle,  that  he  was  a  gift  of  God  to  mortals 
here  below,  therefore  he  was  called  Dieudonne 
(Dieu,  God ;  donne,  give,)  Louis  Dieu  donne. 
He  pretended  to  believe  that  a  spirit  of  God 
had  descended  on  him  and  inspired  him.  "  Je 
suis  le  lieutenant  de  Dieu,"  he  once  exclaimed. 
For  his  emblem  he  took  the  sun  (soleil)  and  he 
adopted  a  device — Nec  Pluribus  Impar — which 
signified  that  he  was  quite  enough  for  several 
worlds.  Those  who  worshipped  Louis  XIV 
represented  him  as  Apollo,  the  god  of  beauty, 
and  he  was  immensely  pleased  by  this.  They 


VERSAILLES  CREATED. 


195 


represented  him  as  Mars,  the  god  of  war,  as 
Jupiter  even,  and  lie  whispered  to  himself  his 
personal  satisfaction. 

Meanwhile,  and  at  first,  the  capital  laughed 
at  these  Royal  pretensions,  but  it  was  soon 
punished  for  its  impertinence  ;  for  "  Louis  le 
Grand  "  detested  his  bon  ville  de  Paris  with 
all 'his  kingly  heart,  and  so  hating  her  he 
created  Versailles.  Again,  and  this  time  for 
nearly  a  century,  the  Louvre  was  abandoned 
as  a  royal  palace,  the  unfinished  work  on  it 
was  neglected,  and  the  Tuileries  was  empty ; 
but  an  immense  Chateau,  with  splendid  gardens, 
large  fountains,  marvellous  and  ingenious  re- 
treats, a  whole  city  were  created  to  take  their 
place.  And  it  is  because  Versailles  is  so  close 
to  Paris,  is  really  one  of  the  splendours,  or 
side-shows,  so  to  speak,  of  the  capital,  that  we 
may  be  permitted  to  speak  of  that  famous  town 
and  its  almost  ruined  masterpieces  of  embellish- 
ment in  this  work. 

The  chateau  and  the  city  of  Versailles  are 
synonymous,  and  the  place  was  long  since 
dubbed  the  French  Thebes.  It  is  a  town  of 
almost  deserted  avenues,  where  every  thorough- 
fare seems  to  converge  toward  the  sometime 
residence  of  the  "  Roi  Soleil,"  where  nothing 


196 


PARIS. 


existed  once  upon  a  time  except  for  him,  where 
houses  and  hotels  were  only  so  many  furnished 
apartments  secondary  to  the  majesty  of  his 
throne-room,  and  which  is  now  little  more  than 
a  soldiers'  barracks  or  drill  ground.  There 
may  be  other  towns  in  Europe  more  ancient 
than  Versailles,  but  there  are  few,  if  any,  so 
historical. 

During  our  own  generation  a  mighty  Empire 
(the  German)  and  a  great  Republic  (the 
French)  have  sprung  into  existence  within  the 
walls  of  its  chateau. 

It  was  at  Versailles  that  the  French  Revo- 
lution first  showed  its  audacity.  It  was  there 
that  Marie  Antoinette  and  the  Du  Barry  woman 
held  their  heedless  courts.  It  was  there  that 
the  putrid  Louis  XV  died ;  but,  and  above  all 
else,  it  was  there  that  the  Absolute  Monarchy 
of  the  "  Sun  King "  had  its  origin  and  at- 
tained to  its  fullest  development.  In  spite, 
however,  of  all  the  transformations,  and  these 
are  many,  which  Versailles  has  undergone — 
from  the  feudal  castle  that  became  the  favourite 
hunting  box  of  Louis  the  Just  to  the  Congress 
hall  where  Monsieur  Loubet  was  chosen  seventh 
President  of  the  French  Republic  a  few  years 
back — it  is  still  the  chateau  which  was  the 


VERSAILLES  OP  THE  PRESENT.  19? 


first  conception  and  temporary  realisation  of 
the  famous  declaration,  "  Tetat  c'est  moi,"  tliat 
has  remained  to  us. 

There  are  two  railway  lines  and  a  well  kept 
national  road  leading  from  Paris  to  Versailles 
and  the  distance  either  way  is  only  a  few  miles. 
The  town  is  a  dreary,  wormeaten  place,  dotted 
with  cheap  cafes,  where  civilians  in  blouses  mix 
with  artillerymen  in  uniform,  as  they  drink, 
smoke,  and  gossip  together  over  politics  and 
la  patrie.  There  is  some  difference  between 
the  outer  appearance  of  the  soldiers  and  that 
of  the  proletaire,  but  there  is  none  whatever 
in  their  intelligences,  or  in  their  voices,  which 
are  nearly  always  musical.  Both  classes,  work- 
ing men  and  military  men,  live  peacefully 
together  in  a  quiet  town  that  is  full  of  phan- 
toms. There  is  a  wide,  open  square  to  which 
all  the  main  avenues  lead,  and  whereon  there 
are  several  gloomy  barracks  which  house  future 
food  for  gunpowder  in  the  shape  of  sturdy 
conscripts.  There  is  a  tall  fence  of  stout  iron 
bars,  round  and  close  together,  with  spike-like 
points  richly  gilded,  and  a  wide  iron-barred 
gate  topped  by  the  same  sham  gold,  and  be- 
yond this  stout  barrier  profiles  the  old  Chateau. 
We  enter  through  this  porte  and  cross  a  large 


193 


PARIS. 


courtyard  girded  by  pompous  statues  of  more 
than  "heroic  size,  all  looking  toward  the  grandly 
plumed  image  of  Louis  XIV  on  horseback. 
There,  on  a  pedestal  green-stained  by  the 
dropping  of  rain  on  the  bronze,  and  surrounded 
by  his  lieutenants,  Prince  Conde  and  Prince 
Turenne,  by  Moliere  and  Corneille,  by  Bossuet 
and  Madame  Maintenon,  the  "  Roi  Soleil" 
holds  his  court  undisturbed  in  the  face  of  tur- 
bulent generations  who  now  wander  as  they 
please  about  his  old  residence.  His  metallic 
glance  contemplates  forever  a  town  that  was 
the  capital  of  his  pride  and  glory,  but  is  now 
only  a  listless  country  towm. 

Beyond  the  equestrian  monument  stands  an 
astonishing  edifice  called  the  Chateau  !  What  a 
mass  of  ambitions — obstinately  pursued,  reached 
after  much  effort,  at  enormous  cost,  and  conse- 
crated almost  wholly  to  the  vanity  of  one  man, — 
does  it  not  recall  to  us.  It  is  now  in  a  bad  way, 
but  it  would  be  much  worse  if  it  were  not  con- 
stantly under  repair.  One  after  the  other  the 
old  royal  or  imperial  residences  of  France  are 
tumbling  into  ruins,  and  it  will  not  be  many 
years  before  Fontainebleau,  Compiegne,  Ram- 
bouillet,  and  Bloiswillbe  as  desolate  as  Loches, 
Chinon,  and  Malmaison.    This  is  not  the  fault 


OF  NO  ARCHITECTURAL  ORDER.  199 


of  the  Republic,  for  each,  century  has  a  natural 
tendency  to  throw  to  the  four  winds  the  dust 
of  all  its  tombs  and  temples  ;  yet  on  the  whole 
there  is  a  tormenting  and  unceasing  desire  on 
our  part  to  seek  for  and  to  find  long  lost  and 
neglected  things.  One  may  ignore  vain  senti- 
mentality, but  to  wipe  off  the  earth  all  the  great 
vestiges  of  the  past  is  more  than  impious,  it  is 
illogical.  Our  epoch,  embarrassed  by  traditions, 
and  aching  with  researches,  cannot  possibly 
exit  from  the  chaotic  mass  except  by  analysis, 
and  this  is  why  the  work  of  erudites  and  his- 
torians among  caves  and  ruins  and  ancient  in- 
scriptions is  so  useful  to  mankind.  That  im- 
mense archaeology  wherein  nothing  dies  is  the 
oracle  of  modern  thought,  for  it  is  history  that 
presides  over  all  engenderings  whether  one 
knows  or  whether  one  ignores. 

The  Chateau  of  Versailles  does  not  belong  to 
any  architectural  order,  and  is  the  last  produc- 
tion of  a  degenerate  Renaissance  that  had  out- 
lived itself.  It  is  true  the  enormous,  wide- 
spreading  front  on  the  garden  side  that  is  now 
so  fatiguing  to  the  eye,  was  formerly  broken  by 
trophies  and  vases  which  crowned  the  balustrade 
of  the  roof  line  ;  and  we  must  also  remember 
that  it  was  to  have  been  topped  with  a  higher 


200 


PARIS. 


roof,  but  these  were  at  best  only  experiments, 
and  they  became  defects  rather  than  orna- 
ments. 

It  is  now  and  always  has  been  an  astonishing 
edifice,  a  palace  house  deeply  marked  in  all  its 
parts  by  the  absorbing  personality  of  a  monarch 
before  whom  the  haughty  Republic  of  Venice 
humiliated  itself,  and  of  whom  kingdoms 
begged  that  he  would  send  sovereigns  to  rule 
over  them.  That  monarch,  in  whom  was  des- 
potically incarnated  the  majesties  and  vanities 
of  his  century,  built  this  Chateau  so  well  that 
it  is  still  his  souvenir,  and  yet  there  is  really 
very  little  of  his  own  residence  in  existence  at 
the  present  time.  Indeed  there  only  remains 
the  "  grands  appartements  du  Roi,"  the  "  Galerie 
des  Glaces  "  and  its  two  salons,  some  rooms 
belonging  to  the  "  grands  appartements  de  la 
Reine,"  the  Chapel,  v\dth  here  and  there  some 
portions  of  the  decoration  of  rooms  that  under- 
went alteration  or  renovation  during  the  reign 
of  Louis  XV,  to  meet  the  constantly  increasing 
necessities  of  the  Royal  family,  or  that  were 
arranged  into  "  superior  apartments  "  for  the 
separate  accommodation  of  certain  "  petites  mait- 
resses,"  among  whom  may  be  mentioned  Ma- 
dame Du  Barry,  Madame  de  Mailly,  Madame 


PICTURES  FROM  THE  TERRACE.  201 


de  Chateauroux,  La  Pompadour,  and  other 
"reines  de  la  main  gauche  "  who  have  lived  in 
the  old  Chateau. 

But  if  there  have  been  many  and  important 
changes  in  the  edifice,  not  so  of  the  park  and 
gardens  in  which  it  stands.  When  strolling 
on  the  terrace  at  the  rear  of  the  Chateau* on 
the  days  of  the  "grand  eaux,"  that  is  to  say, 
when  all  the  fountains  play ;  then,  and  sur- 
rounded by  a  crowd  of  globe  trotters  or  of 
native  sightseers,  one  often  overhears  speeches, 
doubtless  learned  in  books  and  magazines,  such 
as  : — "  Yes,  it  is  very  beautiful,  but  it  is  a  very 
solemn  style."  "  Look  at  it  well,  it  is  only 
geometry."  "  Certainly  there  is  sculpture  and 
architecture,  but  made  especially  with  a  view 
to  the  trees  and  verdure."  "  Walls  and  pyra- 
mids of  foliage — really  that  is  anything  but 
natural."  "  I  think  it  is  very  stiff  and  un- 
graceful," and  so  on.  Still  the  picture  from 
that  terrace  has  to  the  writer  always  had  a  re- 
markably fine  effect,  and  he  has  gazed  on  it 
very  often.  It  is  a  scene  which  extends  over 
forest,  wooded  slopes,  a  distant  horizon  fronted 
by  lakes  which  reflect  the  sky  in  their  clear 
waters,  innumerable  marble  statues,  and  masses 
of  trees  which  seem  to  be  the  falling  of  heavy 


202 


PAEIS. 


and  colossal  foliations.  It  must  be  acknowl- 
edged, however,  that  from  its  earliest  days 
this  Versailles  park  has  had  its  detractors. 
St.  Simon  declared  it  the  "  saddest,  the  most 
ungrateful  of  places,"  but  his  words  were  un- 
just, as  he  doubtless  intended  them  to  be. 

Louis  XIV  was  not  a  Princely  Monarch 
who  did  overmuch  for  the  good  of  mankind, 
but  he  was  a  sovereign,  who  "  directed  "  well, 
and  after  grumbling  over  the  Louvre  and  the 
Tuileries,  he  determined  one  day  to  build  him- 
self, a  new  abiding-place.  And  that  the  mira- 
cle should  be  all  the  more  complete,  in  order 
that  it  should  be  well  proven  that  Nature  as 
well  as  man  obeyed  his  caprices,  the  imperious 
Caesar  chose  a  sterile  spot  in  the  environs  of 
Paris,  precisely  where  the  sumptuous  monu- 
ment that  he  desired  would  have  to  overcome 
the  greatest  difficulties  and  would  cost  the  most. 

Versailles  was  then  only  a  small  village, 
hardly  that  even,  but  Louis  XIV  declared 
that  his  new  home  should  be  a  structure  larger 
than  the  Louvre  and  the  Tuileries  together, 
that  the  surrounding  forest  should  be  a  great 
park,  and  that  the  small  settlement  which  had 
sprung  up  about  an  old  hunting-box  should 
now  become  a  royal  city.    His  will  and  wishes 


MONEY  AND  LIVES  LOST.  203 


were  accomplished,  but  at  what  a  price  !  In 
1661  Architect  Levau  began  buildings  which 
at  his  death  were  continued  by  Mansard. 
Meanwhile  Le  Notre,  who  had  been  given 
carte-blanche,  designed  the  garden,  although 
twenty  odd  years  elapsed  before  the  whole 
plan  was  terminated.  The  total  amount  ex- 
pended in  the  creation  of  the  Chateau  and  its 
park  reached  the  enormous  sum  of  one  hundred 
and  sixteen  million  livres,  which  is  equivalent  to 
at  least  thirty  million  dollars  in  our  time.  Add 
to  this  sum  the  prodigious  mortality  among  the 
workmen — the  dead  were  removed  by  cart- 
loads every  night — and  the  cost  of  water.  For 
the  most  extravagant  part  of  the  whole  plan 
was  the  supplementary  one  for  an  aqueduct 
intended  to  bring  the  flow  of  the  River  Eure 
to  the  plateau  of  Versailles.  Large  sums  of 
money  and  thousands  of  lives  were  lost  in  the 
attempt  to  construct  this  conduit,  which,  though 
it  still  exists  in  a  ruined  condition,  was  never 
completed. 

On  the  sixteenth  of  May,  1682,  Louis  XIV 
fixed  his  residence  at  Versailles — according  to 
the  journal  of  Dangean  thirty-six  thousand 
men  were  still  at  work  on  the  buildings  and 
grounds — and  it  became  the  seat  of  his  Gov- 


204 


PARIS. 


ernment.  Until  then  the  nobles  had  for  most 
part  resided  in  their  respective  provinces  or 
on  their  estates ;  but  the  king  wanted  to  reduce 
the  entire  noblesse  of  France  to  the  position  of 
courtiers  and  lickspittles.  He  would  not  admit 
that  a  man  whose  birth  gave  him  the  right  to 
approach  the  throne  should  absent  himself  from 
court,  and  as  he  compelled  their  attendance  he 
had  to  provide  them  lodgings  within  his  own 
Chateau.  Hence  the  innumerable  bed-closets — 
they  were  little  more  than  closets  most  of  them 
— which  were  arranged  in  the  palace ;  and 
hence  also  the  numerous  offices  that  had  to  be 
created  in  order  to  enable  these  courtiers  to 
meet  the  expenses  entailed  on  them  by  an  idle 
life.  There  was  hardly  a  noble  family  in 
France  but  which  depended  on  the  sovereign's 
generosity.  Thus  it  was  that,  either  from  the 
instinctive  policy  of  despotism,  or  from  the 
necessary  development  of  existing  institutions ; 
or  from  the  caprices  of  a  prince  who  took  pleas- 
ure in  building ;  or,  as  is  probable,  from  a  com- 
bination of  all  these  causes, — the  government  of 
France  changed  little  by  little  until  its  original 
character  had  entirely  disappeared.  By  aban- 
doning the  country  for  the  Court,  the  nobles 
became  separated  from  the  rest  of  the  nation ; 


COMFORT  UNKNOWN. 


205 


and  by  consenting  to  live  in  this  dependence 
they  abdicated  all  sentiment  of  personal  dig- 
nity and  self-respect. 

It  is  in  this  view  of  the  social  and  political 
change  which  France  underwent  during  the  reign 
of  Louis  XIV  that  Versailles  may  be  regarded 
as  the  monument  of  the  transformation  of  the 
feudal  monarchy  of  France  into  a  monarchy 
fashioned  after  the  oriental  type  of  the  personal 
absolutism  of  the  King  himself.  And  how 
were  all  these  courtiers  lodged  ?  For  that  mat- 
ter let  us  first  see  about  the  sovereign,  who, 
according  to  Saint  Simon,  was  poorly  roomed. 
In  those  days  comfort  was  unknown,  architec- 
ture devoting  all  its  attention  to  outward 
appearance,  to  display  and  to  magnificence. 
Grilded  salons,  galleries,  and  grand  stairways  of 
marble  were  piled  on  top  of  each  other  without 
any  general  plan  or  arrangement.  The  King 
could  only  go  to  the  apartments  of  the  Queen 
by  passing  through  a  public  antechamber 
known  as  the  (Eil-de-Boeuf, 1  which  was  always 
full  of  people,  or  else  by  making  a  long  detour 
through  the  rear  portion  of  the  Chateau.  Later 
on  the  passage  du  Roi  was  constructed,  and  to 

1  Some  translate  this  term  ceil-de-lwuf  into  "  bull's 
eye.- 


206 


PARIS. 


do  this,  a  way  had  to  be  opened  through  a 
series  of  dark  closets  out  of  which  courtiers 
and  their  wives  were  turned  sans  ceremonie. 
And  how  about  Madame  de  Maintenon — in 
1684  the  King  married  the  "  Widow  Scarron  " 
— the  morganatic  queen  ?  Her  apartments  had 
a  small  addition  situated  between  the  Salle  des 
Gardes  and  the  anteroom  to  her  part  of  the 
house,  in  which  there  was  a  narrow  alcove  with- 
out light  and  with  but  little  air  where  her  bed 
stood.  All  the  fireplaces  were  enormous,  but 
as  Madame  de  Maintenon  was  subject  to  rheuma- 
tism and  suffered  greatly  from  the  cold,  she  used 
to  sit  in  an  armchair  that  resembled  a  sentry- 
box  in  order  to  protect  herself  from  the  draughts 
of  her  own  rooms.  If  such  was  the  way  in 
which  Master  and  Mistress  were  lodged,  one 
may  well  wonder  what  their  guests  had  to  put 
up  with.  The  Chateau  alone  contained  about* 
five  thousand  persons,  and  there  were  quite  as 
many  more  in  its  various  dependencies.  The  at- 
tics of  the  edifice,  where  we  see  to-day  an  exten- 
sive gallery  of  historical  portraits,  was  divided 
and  subdivided  into  a  multitude  of  narrow  cells 
which  housed  the  highest  and  most  powerful  per- 
sonages of  the  kingdom ;  indeed,  the  Chateau 
at  Versailles  was  not  only  a  town  in  the  number 


AN  OVERCROWDED  CHATEAU.  207 


of  its  inhabitants,  but  also  in  the  character  and 
occupation  of  those  people ;  for  the  need  of  ser- 
vants and  persons  of  every  trade  was  rendered 
necessary  by  the  presence  of  so  many  families. 
Shopkeepers  sold  their  wares  on  all  the  stairs ; 
beggars  were  scattered  all  over  the  Chateau ; 
everybody  could  wander  about  the  place  at  will, 
and  not  infrequently  visitors  were  lost  in  its 
maze  of  corridors.  It  need  hardly  be  added 
that  the  Chateau  was  as  unclean  as  it  was  over- 
crowded, and  that  there  was  but  little  privacy 
anywhere. 

Everything  was  magnificent  in  and  about 
this  rural  masterpiece  which  had  been  created 
for  the  king  and  court,  and  everything  was 
on  a  royal  scale ;  but  everything  was  hor- 
ribly monotonous,  for  all  was  etiquette  and 
methodic  order,  and  gambling  was  the  only 
real  indoor  amusement.  The  whole  end  of  his 
reign  closely  resembled  a  lenten  season  follow- 
ing the  carnival;  and  the  court  already  seemed 
to  be  wearing  mourning  for  a  monarchy  which 
was  in  reality  carried  to  its  tomb  with  the  end 
of  the  succeeding  reign.  Sad  was  the  old  age 
of  le  grand  roi}  and  then  in  1715  he  disappeared, 
leaving  the  throne  to  a  great  grandson,  a  child 
of  five  years. 


208 


PAEIS. 


With  Louis  XV  began  the  decadence  of 
Versailles,  and  the  tumbling  into  ruins  of  the 
splendid  Chateau.  The  palace  was  no  longer 
adapted  to  the  new  manners  of  the  day  and  to 
the  desire  for  the  comforts  of  life  which  had 
been  introduced  into  France.  It  remained  the 
official  residence,  but  the  young  King  liked  it 
not ;  the  etiquette  of  Court  life  became  relaxed 
while  the  Court  morals  were  much  less  vigorous 
than  its  etiquette.  Unlike  those  of  his  prede- 
cessor, the  irregularities  of  Louis  XV  were 
glaring  vices.  There  were  mistresses  and 
petites  maitresses. — Madame  la  Pompadour 
made  way  for  Madame  Du  Barry,  who  cost  the 
nation  forty  million  livres  in  five  years.  The 
Chateau  was  given  up  to  shameful  amusements, 
and  the  town  revelled  in  daily  orgies.  The 
Bourbon  who  on  his  accession  to  the  crown  had 
been  named  by  his  people  le  bien  aime — the 
well-beloved — died  as  hated  and  detested  a 
monarch  as  ever  sat  on  any  throne. 

The  Court  at  Versailles  again  became  bril- 
liant while  Louis  XVI  and  Marie  Antoinette 
were  there ;  and  it  also  became  respectable  un- 
der the  influence  of  the  only  Bourbon  who  had 
ever  possessed  domestic  virtues.  But  the  story 
of  the  events  which  took  place  at  the  Chateau 


A  MAGNIFICENT  PERSPECTIVE.  209 


during  his  reign,  and  of  those  which  inaugurated 
the  Revolution,  need  not  be  repeated.  With 
the  removal  of  the  King  and  Queen  to  Paris, 
Versailles  was  abandoned,  and  it  has  never 
since  been  a  place  of  royal  residence.  Louis 
Philippe  determined  on  restoring  and  repairing 
the  Chateau,  and  he  converted  most  of  it  into  a 
museum  for  pictures  and  into  showrooms.  It  is 
true  the  Chateau  suffered  greatly  while  under- 
going these  alterations  and  reconstructions ;  but 
if  the  work  had  not  been  done,  the  establish- 
ment would  have  been  in  complete  ruins  long 
ago. 

As  for  the  park,  it  has  been  more  fortunate 
than  the  Chateau,  being  even  now  practically 
the  same  that  it  was  when  completed  by  Le 
Notre.  If  we  place  ourselves  on  the  broad 
steps  at  the  rear  of  the  Chateau,  between  the 
two  large  water  basins  on  the  parterre,  we  see 
before  us  a  most  magnificent  perspective.  The 
slopes  are  bordered  with  yew  trees  and  with 
stone  steps  descending  to  the  central  green  ;  then 
comes  the  royal  alley,  with  its  long  and  lovely 
tapis  vert;  further  off  is  the  Bassin  d' Apollon  ; 
then,  as  far  as  we  can  see,  stretches  the  grand 
canal  whereon  gondolas  and  aquatic  fowl 
sported  during  the  reign  of  the  Sun  King. 


210 


PAKIS. 


In  the  hemicycle  formed  by  hedges  which 
entirely  hide  the  walls  of  the  slopes  and  of  the 
stairways,  is  the  Bassin  de  Latone.1  Here 
Sculptor  Marsy  represented  the  mother  of 
Apollo  and  of  Diana  when,  pursued  by  the 
hatred  of  Juno,  she  sees  herself  exposed  to  the 
insults  of  Lycian  peasants,  whom  the  fury  of 
Jupiter  metamorphoses  into  frogs.  The  sub- 
basements  of  the  basin  are  of  party-coloured 
marble,  as  is  the  pedestal  of  the  group  of  La- 
tone  and  her  two  children,  the  group  itself  be- 
ing in  white  marble.  The  peasants,  the  frogs 
and  creatures — half  men,  half  batrachians — that 
surround  the  goddess  form  seventy-four  figures 
made  of  bronze  lead,  each  of  which  throws  forth 
a  jet  of  water.  Let  us  pass  on,  without  stop- 
ping at  the  Bassin  des  Lezards  which  ornaments 
the  two  compartments  of  the  central  parterre, 
straight  to  the  Bassin  d' Apollon,  which  matchfes 
that  of  the  Latone.  This  basin  is  three  hun- 
dred and  sixty  feet  in  length  by  two  hundred 
and  seventy  feet  in  width,  and  its  form  is  really 
elegant.  Between  two  perpendicular  wheat- 
sheafs  that  spring  from  a  sheet  of  water  and 

1  Spelled  in  this  way,  bassin  is  the  French  word  for 
basin ;  Bassin  de  Latone  means  therefore  the  basin  of 
Latone  ;  that  is  to  say,  the  Latone  fountain. 


AMONG  THE  FOUNTAINS.  211 


rise  to  a  height  of  forty-seven  feet,  we  perceive, 
in  the  midst  of  a  thick  jet  of  water  fifty-seven 
feet  in  height  which  envelops  him,  the  Grod  of 
Day  holding  the  reins  of  his  chariot  horses  and 
coming  out  of  the  waves  to  begin  his  daily 
course.  The  horses,  although  half  immersed, 
are  clearly  distinguished,  while  dolphins  and 
tritons  accompany  Phoebus  to  the  limits  of  the 
humid  kingdom.  All  these  figures  are  of  lead, 
but  this  Apollo  must  not  be  confounded  with 
one  at  his  morning  toilet,  which  we  shall  find, 
before  quitting  the  dwelling  of  Thetis  to  spring 
into  the  Empyreum.  There  is  a  whole  course 
of  mythological  studies  to  make  when  crossing 
the  woods  and  pieces  of  water  at  Versailles,  for 
no  god  of  distinction  seems  lacking ;  and  yet 
the  true  Master  of  this  Olympia,  he  who  with 
a  frown  made  mortals  tremble,  sat  in  the 
Chateau  on  a  throne  of  velvet  with  golden 
figures,  and  under  a  dais  covered  with  fleurs 
de  lys. 

Neptune  was  long  absent  from  the  immense 
basin  or  amphitheatre  that  was  consecrated  to 
his  name,  and  which  is,  beyond  all  doubt,  the 
finest  fountain  piece  in  the  entire  park.  The 
principal  group,  placed,  not  in  the  middle  of 
the  water,  but,  against  a  wall  at  the  end  most 


212 


PAKIS. 


elevated,  represents  the  God  of  the  Sea  and  his 
wife,  Amphitrite,  seated  in  an  immense  shell. 
Neptune,  armed  with  his  trident,  has  on  his 
head  the  remains  of  a  monster  from  whose 
mouth  comes  a  sheet  of  water,  while  on  his 
right  a  triton  is  mounted  on  a  sea-horse.  Am- 
phitrite  has  a  triton  and  a  seal  near  her,  a  naiad 
presents  her  the  treasures  of  the  ocean ;  while 
on  the  right  of  this  august  couple  sport  animals 
confided  to  the  care  of  Proteus,  faithful  servitor 
to  the  Ocean  God.  On  the  left  old  Ocean 
leans  carelessly  on  a  gigantic  unicorn ;  while  the 
attributes  surrounding  him  are — an  urn,  a  forest 
of  reeds,  and  two  fantastic  fish.  The  table 
which  surmounts  the  superior  part  of  the  basin 
is  ornamented  with  twenty-two  leaden  vases  of 
admirable  workmanship.  The  border  of  the 
lower  extremity,  at  its  two  angles,  offers  figures 
of  dolphins  mounted  by  cupids.  We  reach 
this  Bassin  de  Neptune  from  the  upper  or 
Northern  parterre,  by  the  Water  alley  {Allee 
cPeau),  called  also  Allee  des  Marmousets,  be- 
cause it  is  ornamented  with  a  double  row  of 
seven  small  marble  basins,  in  the  midst  of 
which  are  groups  of  children  supporting  cups 
of  marble,  although  the  children  are  of  bronze. 
Eight  other  groups  border  the  half  moon  that 


OTHER  THINGS  OF  BEAUTY.  213 


overlooks  the  Bassin  de  Neptune,  and  surround 
a  piece  called  "  du  Dragon,"  which  dragon  is 
the  famous  serpent  Python  that  Apollo  pierced 
with  arrows.  It  also  throws  out  an  enormous 
jet  of  water,  as  indeed  do  all  the  other  mon- 
sters, gods,  and  children  in  the  garden  of  Ver- 
sailles when  the  fountains  play. 

Coming  back  by  the  "  Alley  of  the  Little 
Boys  "  to  the  grand  terrace,  we  stop  a  moment 
to  consider  the  decoration  of  the  two  basins 
to  the  North  and  South  which  were  left  behind 
us  a  while  ago.  The  first  is  of  especially 
charming  effect.  The  Rivers  Garonne  and  Dor- 
dogne,  the  nymphs,  the  groups  of  children  and 
figures,  are  quite  suitable  in  a  field  where  Art 
dominates  Nature  everywhere.  In  the  other 
basin  the  figures  of  the  Rivers  Loire,  Loiret, 
Saone,  and  Rhone,  together  with  groups  of 
nymphs  and  children,  form  an  ensemble  full 
of  harmony. 

At  the  Southern  extremity  of  the  terrace, 
two  magnificent  flights  of  marble  stairs,  of  one 
hundred  and  three  steps  each,  descend  to  the 
parterre  of  an  Orangery  that  is  divided  into 
three  galleries.  One  of  these,  the  central,  is 
five  hundred  and  four  feet  long,  forty  feet  wide, 
and  forty  in  height ;  the  two  lateral  galleries 


214 


PARIS. 


are  each  three  hundred  and  fifty  feet  in  length, 
including  the  extremities,  which  are  lower  under 
the  stairways.  Exteriorly,  this  edifice  owes  its 
beauty  to  the  fortunate  effect  of  the  balustrade 
that  crowns  it  and  the  marble  stairways  already 
mentioned.  The  Orangery  was  terminated  in 
1686;  to  it  the  finest  orange  trees  at  Fontaine- 
bleau  were  brought,  and  in  it  delicious  fruit 
is  grown. 

It  would  hardly  do  to  pass  in  review  all  the 
groves,  basins,  and  statuary,  and  flower  beds 
distributed  to  the  right  and  left  of  what  is 
known  as  the  "  tapis-vert"  and  which  is  a 
splendid  stretch  of  the  most  perfectly  kept 
lawn  possible  to  be  imagined,  but  they  are  all 
beautiful  and  very  expensive. 

There  are,  however,  two  remarkable  things 
which  must  be  mentioned,  the  grand  canal,  and 
the  Swiss  piece  of  water,  (piece  cPeau  des 
Suisses),  and  for  this  we  need  not  quit  the 
small  park.  By  following  the  Eoyal  alley  to 
its  end,  and  by  going  around  the  Apollo  foun- 
tain, we  will  have  before  us  a  great  basin  of 
five  hundred  feet  in  diameter,  which  forms  the 
head  of  the  canal.  This  canal  is  more  than 
five  thousand  feet  long,  and  is  terminated  by  a 
second   basin   which   is  seven  hundred  feet 


AN  ARTIFICIAL  LAKE. 


215 


across.  Of  the  two  secondary  branches,  which 
start  for  a  third  basin  situated  towards  the 
middle,  the  one  on  the  left  ended  in  a  men- 
agerie that  was  suppressed  in  1793;  while  the 
one  on  the  right  runs  northward  to  the  site 
of  the  ancient  village  of  Trianon,  where  the 
little  Chateau  of  that  name  now  stands.  In 
the  time  of  Louis  XIV,  a  fleet  of  gondolas  and 
a  group  of  gondoliers,  all  brought  from  Venice, 
were  seen  on  this  canal,  to  which  the  King,  the 
Dauphin  and  the  Princesses  often  went  to  take 
a  ride ;  while  nowadays  the  night  fetes  at 
Versailles  usually  end  with  a  display  of  fire- 
works. 

The  Swiss  piece,  so  called  because  a  regiment 
of  the  Swiss  guards  were  employed  in  digging 
it,  is  situated  at  the  entrance  of  the  grand  park 
before  the  parterre  of  the  Orangery.  Nautical 
plays  and  jousts  were  given  there  in  those 
other  days,  for  then  the  sheet  of  .water  was 
fifteen  hundred  feet  long  by  five  hundred 
wide ;  but  the  stone  border  with  which  it  was 
formerly  surrounded  has  fallen  into  ruin, 
and  there  is  no  longer  any  real  basin,  only  a 
sort  of  pond  with  muddy  banks.  The  ground 
taken  away  to  hollow  out  this  " piece  d'eau  des 
Suisses "  served  to  fill  up  a  deep  pond,  where 


216 


PARIS. 


Mansard  established  the  vegetable  garden  of 
his  majesty.  This  garden  still  exists,  and  its 
management  has  in  all  times  been  confided  to 
skilled  managers.  It  is  now  a  National  School 
of  Horticulture,  where  excellent  vegetables 
are  cultivated,  the  greater  part  of  which  are 
consumed  on  the  tables  of  cabinet  officers  and  on 
that  of  the  President. 

What  contributed  especially  to  make  Ver- 
sailles a  ruinous  masterpiece  was  not,  however, 
the  buildings,  or  the  park,  or  the  fountains ; 
it  was  not  the  statues,  or  the  Orangery ;  it 
was  not  the  paintings,  or  the  extravagance  of 
those  within  the  Chateau  ;  it  was  that  which  it 
would  seem  at  first  sight  ought  to  have  cost 
next  to  nothing, — the  water.  Not  the  water 
which  was  actually  brought  to  the  place,  but 
that  which  they  vainly  and  madly  tried  to 
bring  to  it.  It  is  true  that — after  thousands  on 
thousands  of  soldiers,  working  as  labourers, 
had  been  decimated  by  pernicious  fevers,  and 
hundreds  of  millions  of  francs  had  been  squan- 
dered— they  did  succeed  in  getting  water  there ; 
not  nearly  so  much  as  was  desired,  but  sufficient 
to  fill  the  basins  and  to  have  the  cascades 
and  the  fountains  play  on  gala  days,  and 
which,  considering  the  multitude  of  the  pieces, 


GRAND  AND  PETIT  TRIANONS.  217 


was  more  than  might  have  been  reasonably 
expected.1 

It  appears  that  Lonis  XIV  was  hardly  in- 
stalled at  Versailles  when  he  began  to  fear  the 
fatigue  and  weariness  of  the  life  of  pomp  it 
would  be  necessary  for  him  to  lead  in  this 
Olympia  of  marble,  jasper,  gold,  and  verdure ; 
and  so,  wishing  to  have  near  the  Chateau  and 
its  gardens  a  house  and  park  where  he  could 
pass  a  day  or  two  with  his  family  and  a  few 
favourites,  simply  as  a  grand  lord,  whenever  he 
desired  to  do  so,  he  bought  the  fiefs  and  farms 
of  the  little  village  of  Trianon  from  the  monks 
of  Sainte  Genevieve,  and  then,  at  the  extremity 
of  one  of  the  arms  of  the  grand  canal  a  "  Palace 
of  Flora "  was  erected  for  gallant  purposes. 
First  it  was  a  house  built  of  porcelain  and  was 
used  for  picnics ;  afterwards  it  was  enlarged 
and  made  a  sleeping-place ;  and,  finally,  it  be- 
came a  small  chateau  of  marble  and  poryphry. 
This  last  pavilion  was  regarded  by  every  one 
as  an  enchantment,  but  the  King's  fancy  for  it 
only  lasted  a  few  years.  The  house  of  marble 
and  poryphry  was  torn  down,  and  in  its  place 

1  These  fountains  usually  play  once  every  month 
during  summer,  and  it  costs  the  State  about  eight 
thousand  dollars  for  their  water  alone,  each  day. 


218 


PARIS, 


was  erected  the  building  now  known  as  the 
Grand  Trianon.  After  the  year  1699,  Louis 
XIV  ceased  to  sleep  at  the  Grand  Trianon,  and 
soon  the  place  was  wholly  deserted. 

Louis  XV  liked  his  ease.  Pleasure  was  the 
greatest  affair  of  his  life,  and  as  pleasure,  espe- 
cially as  he  understood  it,  did  not  accommo- 
date itself  to  etiquette  and  ceremonial,  he  re- 
quired, besides  the  several  palaces  which  he 
had  inherited,  that  houses  where  he  could  live 
in  debauchery  should  be  built. 

Louis  XIV  had  the  first  Trianon  erected, 
diminutive  of  Versailles ;  Louis  XV  built  the 
second  Trianon,  diminutive  of  the  other,  and 
this  is  the  one  which  Louis  XVI  gave  over  to 
Queen  Marie  Antoinette.  The  garden  was 
then  entirely  replanted,  in  accordance  with  the 
existing  romantic  and  pastoral  taste,  and  a 
hamlet  with  dairy,  a  chapel,  and  a  curate's  house 
were  built  on  the  banks  of  a  pond  and  shallow 
stream.  Her  Majesty  was  very  fond  of  her 
imitation  farm,  and  often  went  there  with  her 
favourite  lords  and  ladies,  to  exchange  the  pomp 
of  Court  for  the  innocent  and  childish  play  of 
field  pursuits.  The  pleasure  of  wandering  over 
the  buildings  of  the  hamlet,  of  milking  cows, 
of  fishing  in  the  pond,  enchanted  "  the  Aus- 


CASTLE  OF  VINCENNES. 


219 


trian  "  ;  and  on  the  stage  o£  her  small  theatre 
at  Trianon  she  played  the  rdle  of  Colette  in  the 
"Devin  de  Village/'  and  that  of  Eosine  in  the 
"Barbier  de  Seville." 

To-day  the  Petit  Trianon  could  be  made  one 
of  the  most  charming  gardens  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Paris,  and  yet  it  is  a  sadly  neglected 
spot.  Then,  it  was  elegant,  its  vegetation  was 
rich  and  vigorous;  now,  the  waters  are  stag- 
nant, troubled,  and  overcharged  with  crypto- 
gamic  vegetations  which  render  their  aspect 
disagreeable;  while  the  walls  are  tumbling 
down,  and  the  shrubbery  in  its  garden  grows 
wilder  every  year, — it  is  no  longer  a  pleasure 
ground. 

Another  old  residence  of  French  kings 
stands  at  Vincennes,  and  as  it,  too,  belongs  in  a 
way  to  Paris,  it  must  be  briefly  described  in 
these  pages.  The  road  out  by  carriage,  is  past 
the  spot  where  the  Bastille  stood,  past  the 
Place  du  Trone,  and  so  on  to  the  Donjon  of 
Vincennes,  a  colossal  square  castle,  towering 
up  an  immense  height,  and  over  which  centu- 
ries of  wars  and  revolutions  have  swept  without 
changing  much  of  its  mediaeval  character. 

Etymologists  have  wasted  ink  and  paper  and 
a  great  deal  of  their  time  in  discussing  the  deri- 


220 


PAEIS. 


vation  of  the  name  of  this  town  and  chateau ; 
but  their  discussions  have  not  led  to  our  know- 
ing anything  definite  on  the  subject.  Some  get 
the  name  from  tw^o  Latin  words,  vita  sana — 
meaning  a  healthy  life.  Others  say  it  was  so- 
called  because  separated  from  the  old  Gallo- 
Roman  city  of  Lutetia  by  a  distance  of  vigenti 
stadia.  As  far  back  as  the  year  847  it  was 
called  Villecennde  in  a  Royal  patent,  as  it  was 
again  in  a  bull  signed  by  Pope  Benoit  VII,  in 
980 ;  while  in  a  Royal  charter  of  Henri  II,  of 
the  year  1037,  the  same  name  was  given  to  it. 

The  forest  stretches  away  from  near  the  forti- 
fications of  Paris,  and,  following  the  right  bank 
of  the  River  Seine,  covers  nearly  the  whole  of 
the  peninsula  formed  by  the  junction  of  the 
rivers  Marne  and  Seine,  and  extends  along  the 
former  river  and  around  to  the  town  after  which 
it  is  named,  forming  an  almost  regular  square, 
\  out  of  one  side  of  which  is  taken  the  space  occu- 
pied by  the  town,  castle,  and  drill-ground. 

Commenced  by  Philip  of  Valois  in  1337,  and 
completed  by  Charles  le  Sage,  this  castle,  the 
only  royal  manor  then  outside  the  capital,  oc- 
cupies the  site  of  a  royal  country  palace — where 
Philippe  Augustus  went  to  hunt  the  deer  and 
wild  boars  which  filled  the  forest — placed  there 


A  STOUT  OLD  FOKTKESS.  221 


originally  by  Clovis,  after  lie  had  driven  out 
the  Pagan  priests.  "When  completed,  it  was 
a  powerful  citadel  composed  of  a  central  or 
donjon  tower,  surrounded  by  eight  flanking 
towers,  united  by  heavy  walls,  and  encircled 
with  a  wide  moat. 

Of  this  citadel  the  donjon  tower  alone  is  now 
standing  ;  the  rest  have  all  vanished  amidst  the 
wars  that  have  ebbed  and  flowed  around  it, 
and  have  been  replaced  by  various  other  struc- 
tures belonging  to  different  and  widely  sepa- 
rated epochs.  It  is  still  a  stout  old  fortress, 
enclosed  by  strong  walls  and  a  wide  moat,  de- 
fended by  cannon,  and  comprising  within  its 
limits  an  arsenal,  barracks,  hospitals,  a  cannon 
foundry,  a  manufactory  of  small  arms,  repairing 
shops,  a  chapel,  prisons,  and  large  storehouses, 
containing  the  complete  equipments  for  an  army 
of  sixty  thousand  men  constantly  kept  ready  for 
use,  to  say  nothing  of  a  garrison  of  some  ten 
thousand  soldiers. 

We  enter  over  a  drawbridge  thrown  across  a 
moat  to  the  gate,  and  soon  find  ourselves  in  a 
large  courtyard,  with  the  fagade  in  front  of  us 
of  what  was  once  the  royal  apartments.  These 
were  built  by  Louis  XIII  and  Louis  XIV ; 
while  the  chapel  to  our  left  was  commenced 


222 


PAEIS. 


back  in  the  fourteenth  century,  when  Charles 
V  lived  there. 

It  was  in  the  old  chapel,  pulled  down  to  make 
room  for  the  present  one,  that  the  "  Crown  of 
Thorns,"  brought  from  the  Holy  Land  was  de- 
posited over  night  on  its  arrival.  Next  morn- 
ing Louis  IX  carried  it  to  the  capital,  walking 
barefoot  the  entire  distance.  The  present 
chapel  is  a  Gothic  structure,  with  delicate  lace- 
like stone  carvings,  rose  windows,  and  ogives. 
Architecturally  speaking  it  is  a  noble  piece  of 
work,  but  the  interior  is  devoid  of  ornamenta- 
tion and  shows  numerous  traces  of  having  been 
sacked  frequently. 

On  the  same  side  of  the  courtyard  is  the 
armoury,  and  a  small  tower,  while  the  frowning 
donjon  tower  looms  up  at  the  right  of  the 
courtyard.  It  is  one  hundred  and  seventy-four 
feet  high,  its  ten-feet-thick  walls  have  stood  the 
wars  of  many  centuries,  and  it  is  that  part  of 
the  Chateau  of  Vincennes  which  most  fascinates 
visitors.  There  is  another  drawbridge  to  cross 
before  we  reach  the  threshold  of  the  Donjon, 
and  many  brave  and  unfortunate  men  have  done 
so  before  us,  with  spirits  subdued  by  oppression 
and  hearts  broken  by  injustice  and  tyranny. 

Much  of  that  chivalrous  spirit  which  capti- 


A  FROWNING  DUNGEON. 


223 


vates  the  imagination  when  reading  French 
history  expired  in  this  grim  old  tower  that  we 
are  about  to  enter.  Sometimes  it  was  quenched 
by  violence  and  ignominious  death,  sometimes 
wasted  away  in  slow,  silent,  life- wearing  obliv- 
ion. So  much  of  the  bold,  fearless  genius  of 
philosophy  has  here  sustained  persecution, 
through  the  harassing  medium  of  promised 
liberty,  protracted  imprisonment,  and  all  the 
wearying  alternations  of  supense,  that  the  tower 
is  a  monument  of  suffering,  a  stone  chronicle 
of  dates,  events,  and  periods,  as  well  as  a 
mighty  castle.  There  is  not  an  ivy-twined 
loophole,  not  a  time-tinted  bastion  belonging 
to  this  frowning  dungeon — so  long  the  terrific 
instrument  of  tyrannical  caprice  ingulfing  any 
victim  whom  power,  thwarted  in  some  darling 
passion,  might  hurl  into  its  noisome  cells — but 
has  a  specific  power  to  awaken  sadness  and  to 
arouse  indignation. 

Each  of  the  five  floors  has  a  lofty  central 
room,  surrounded  by  cells,  in  which  many 
features  still  remain  to  recall  the  Princes  of 
the  blood,  nobility,  great  writers  and  illus- 
trious statesmen  who  at  different  periods  have 
occupied  them  as  prisoners.  The  great  Conde 
was  incarcerated  here,  and  his  original  crime. 


224  PARIS. 

4 

as  it  was  also  the  cause  of  his  many  after 
errors,  was  his  devotion  to  a  beautiful  wife, 
whom  he  refused  to  resign  to  the  lust  of  a 
gray-headed  king.  But  while  many  a  man  has 
sighed  within  the  walls  of  the  famous  Donjon 
of  Vinoennes,  numerous  are  the  glories  and 
the  disasters  that  it  has  witnessed.  It  was  once 
the  favourite  residence  of  the  Kings  of  France, 
and  a  few  of  these  spent  their  entire  reign 
within  the  confines  of  the  deep,  wide  moat 
surrounding  it.  Civil  wars  and  foreign  in- 
vasions long  since  beat  in  blood-red  waves  at  the 
foot  of  its  massive  tower,  while  after  the  arrows 
of  archers  and  the  bolts  of  crossbowmen,  the  mus- 
ket bullets  and  cannon  balls  of  more  modern 
troops  scarred  its  thick  walls  and  smashed  its 
stained  glass  windows.  It  has  been  a  military 
stronghold,  a  Royal  residence,  a  State  prison, 
and  it  is  still  an  ancient  pile. 

A  magnificent  panorama  of  capital  and 
country,  of  river  fields  and  forests,  of  roads  and 
scattered  villages,  can  be  seen  from  the  top  of 
it.  In  every  direction  the  perspective  is  deep 
and  distant,  and  there  are  few  spots  over  the 
whole  landscape  which  do  not  recall  ancient 
history.  All  the  roads  and  streets  to  be  seen 
have  been  traversed  by  men  who  left  deep 


THE  PAGES  OF  HISTORY. 


225 


marks  on  the  pages  of  Continental  existence, 
'Not  a  corner  of  that  smiling  country  but  has 
witnessed  bloody  combats.  Roman  and  Gauls, 
Francs  and  Normans,  French  and  English, 
Russians,  Austrians,  and  Spaniards  have  all 
been  there,  as  there  have  also  been  Catholics  and 
Protestants  fighting  for  the  possession  of  Paris, 
emperors,  kings,  princes,  constables,  marshals 
have  marched  their  men  through  all  the  sur- 
rounding hamlets  or  smiling  villages,  have 
bivouacked  their  troops  under  those  trees,  have 
manured  those  lands  with  the  blood  of  heroes. 
The  courtyard  has  rung  with  the  tread  of  mail- 
clad  knights,  has  echoed  with  the  sound  of 
muffled  drums,  has  resounded  with  the  din  of 
hand-to-hand  conflicts,  with  the  blasts  of  trum- 
pets proclaiming  victories  in  battle,  the  clarion 
of  heralds  announcing  the  coming  of  a  king  or 
an  emperor. 

But  there  was  love  and  beauty  in  those  days 
as  well  as  heroism.  Under  the  trees  of  Vin- 
cennes  still  flit  the  shades  of  Grabrielle  d'Estrees, 
Marguerite  de  Yalys,  Madame  De  Longue- 
ville,  the  Pompadour,  and  other  beautiful 
women  whom  kings  and  princes  loved,  well 
if  not  wisely. 

The  River  Marne  winds  its  way  beautifully 


226 


PAEIS. 


through,  those  lands ;  and  there  is  a  tradition 
that  Saint  Louis  used  to  administer  justice  in 
patriarchal  fashion  under  those  mighty  oaks. 
Another  story  connected  with  the  locality  is 
that  when  General  Daumesnil,  commanding 
this  same  castle  over  which  we  are  now  linger- 
ing, when  summoned  in  1814  by  the  Allies  to 
surrender,  answered :  "  Certainly,  I  will  do  so — 
when  you  bring  me  back  the  leg  I  lost  on  the 
battlefield  of  Wagram."  Ten  years  before 
that,  the  Duke  of  Enghien,  last  of  the  Condes, 
was  brought  to  Vincennes,  and  the  same  night 
of  his  arrival  he  was  interrogated,  judged,  con- 
demned and  shot,  by  command  of  Napoleon. 
For  this  act  the  Emperor  has  been  harshly 
treated  by  some  historians.  But  I  always 
see  Napoleon  the  Great,  not  Napoleon  the  Bad, 
when  recalling  the  deeds  of  that  wonderful 
genius. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


The  Colonnade  of  the  Louvre — The  Hotel  des  In- 
valides,  or  Home  for  old  Soldiers — Many  strange 
scenes  witnessed — Seeking  for  guns  with  which  to 
take  the  Bastile  —  Breaking  of  Frederick  the 
Great's  sword — Mysterious  vaults  as  burial  places 
— The  story  of  Monsieur  de  Sombreuil — Victims 
of  the  Eeign  of  Terror — Their  last  repose  in  the 
Hue  Picpus — Funeral  service  of  Marshal  MacMa- 
hon — A  splendid  military  ceremony — Captured 
flags  and  standards  —  The  artillery  museum  — 
Tomb  of  Napoleon — Anecdote  of  Queen  Victoria — 
The  Chapelle  Expiatoire — Royal  remains  at  Saint 
Denis. 

Notwithstanding  his  hatred  of  Paris,  Louis 
XIV  did  not  utterly  neglect  it,  and  one  of  the 
great  works  which  he  accomplished  was  that  of 
building  the  "  Colonnade  "  of  the  Louvre  at 
the  north  side  of  that  immense  structure.  The 
disposition  is  fine  and  of  noble  simplicity,  but 
it  does  not  resemble  in  the  least  anything  else 
that  we  can  see  in  Paris  of  Renaissance  archi- 
tecture, as  for  instance,  the  Palais  Royal,  or  the 
gracious  Pavilion  Henry  IV,  elsewhere  men- 
tioned.   The  architect's  idea  in  this  colonnade 


228 


PARIS, 


seems  to  have  been  to  purely  and  simply  imi- 
tate, and  in  the  closest  possible  way,  the  Ro- 
mans and  the  Greeks,  especially  the  latter. 
This  was  termed  classic  art ;  and  yet  this  strik- 
ing colonnade,  even  though  it  was  constructed 
during  the  reign  of  Louis  XIV,  is  merely  a 
fagade,  and  serves  no  useful  purpose  whatever. 
It  is  a  front  for  show  only,  something  to  be 
seen  from  the  outside,  to  please  passers  by ; 
and  in  this  respect  nothing  could  better  resem- 
ble the  grand  rtyne,  which  also  was  all  fagade, 
all  for  show  purposes. 

But,  there  is  a  monument  in  Paris  that  was 
built  by  the  Sun  King  which  is  indeed  praise- 
worthy, that  of  the  Hotel  des  Invalides;  al- 
though the  original  idea  of  it  belongs  to  Henri 
IV.  The  thought  which  impelled  the  construc- 
tion of  that  mansion  was  worthy  of  any  king. 
•Until  then  the  mutilated  human  debris  of  bat- 
tle-fields were  sometimes  without  bread  or 
shelter.  They  were  seen  begging  along  the 
roads,  living  witnesses  of  the  ingratitude  of  the 
State.  Louis  XIV  wished  to  end  this  sad 
spectacle,  and  he  gave  to  the  Hotel  des  Inva- 
lides a  donation  which  was  considerable  for 
the  time,  when  money  had  much  greater  value 
than  in  our  days. 


HOTEL  DES  INVALIDES. 


But  although  the  hotel  could  receive  six 
thousand  men  it  was  too  small  for  all  the  soldiers 
rendered  infirm  by  the  long  wars  caused  by  the 
ambition  of  a  sovereign  who  wished  to  put  his 
grandson  on  the  S panish  throne ;  and  so  help  in 
money  was  given  those  who  could  not  be  ad- 
mitted. This  was  the  origin  of  retiring  pen- 
sions, which  since  the  Revolution  have  become 
the  right  of  all  those  whose  blood  has  been 
poured  out  in  the  service  of  France,  and  who 
are  no  longer  in  a  fit  condition  to  work. 

Under  Napoleon  I  the  organisation  of  the 
Invalides  was  modified  and  the  donation  rose 
to  six  million  francs.  This  fact  is  not  surprising 
on  the  part  of  a  conqueror  who  traversed  entire 
Europe  on  a  war  horse,  leaving  a  line  of  blood 
behind  him.  The  Emperor  saw  too  much  of 
the  horrors  of  war  not  to  think  to  attenuate  as 
much  as  possible  its  cruel  consequences.  The 
number  of  old  soldiers  is  much  decreased  at 
present,  because  it  has  been  proven  that  with 
the  sum  required  for  his  support  a  pensioner  is 
much  happier  with  his  family,  enjoying  an 
annual  revenue,  than  he  would  be  at  the  Inva- 
lides. Those  who  live  there  are  generally  with- 
out relations  and  are  consequently  exposed  to 
an  unhappy  existence  delivered  over  to  merce- 
nary hands. 


230 


PARIS* 


The  Invalides  has  witnessed  many  strange 
scenes,  and  numerous  personages  have  visited 
it.  The  year  of  his  death,  Louis  XIV  went 
there  for  the  last  time,  to  confirm  the  inmates 
in  the  privilege  that  they  had  energetically 
claimed,  of  serving  him  as  garde  dlionneur 
while  he  was  in  the  interior  of  the  place.  The 
Royal  bodyguard  was  not  permitted  to  pene- 
trate futher  than  the  entrance  gate,  but  there 
awaited  the  return  of  his  majesty. 

On  the  morning  of  July  14,  1789,  the  Cure 
of  Saint  Etienne  du  Mont,  at  the  head  of  his 
parishioners,  ran  to  seek  arms  at  the  Invalides. 
They  met  with  the  crowd  which  had  come  for 
the  same  purpose  from  different  parts  of  Paris. 
All  claimed  the  guns  and  cannon  that  were  to 
serve  them  in  taking  the  Bastile ;  and  in  vain 
the  Governor  tried  to  gain  time,  by  demanding 
orders  from  Versailles.  The  multitude  threw 
themselves  into  the  ditches,  scaled  the  walls,  dis- 
armed the  sentinels,  and  reached  the  cellars 
where  thirty  thousand  muskets  were  stored. 
Horses  were  hitched  to  the  cannon  in  the  front 
court ;  but  meanwhile  water  had  been  turned 
into  the  vaults  and  frightful  disorder  followed. 
With  shrieks  and  yells,  their  torches  extin- 
guished, men  fought,  each  in  the  darkness,  to 


THE  BUKNING  OF  THE  FLAGS.  231 


escape.  Many  were  smothered  to  death,  but 
the  more  robust  succeeded  in  climbing  the  sin- 
gle stairs,  presented  their  bayonets  in  the  face 
of  those  who  still  insisted  on  descending,  and 
thus  saved  hundreds,  perhaps  thousands. 

Under  the  first  Republic,  the  Royal  Hotel 
des  Invalides  became  the  Temple  of  Humanity, 
and  then  the  Temple  of  Mars.  On  Sunday, 
the  10th  of  August,  1793,  the  cortege  which 
crossed  Paris  to  celebrate  the  acceptance  of  the 
constitution  stopped  in  the  middle  of  the 
Esplanade,  where  stood  a  colossal  statue  which 
represented  "  the  French  people  striking  Fed- 
eralism with  a  club  and  throwing  it  into  a 
muddy  swamp."  Napoleon  I  replaced  this 
statue  with  one  brought  from  Venice,  but  Aus- 
tria in  turn  took  it  away  in  1815. 

On  the  30th  of  March,  1814,  at  nine  o'clock 
in  the  evening,  in  the  Cour  Royale,  the  Colo- 
nel-Major of  the  Invalides  broke  the  sword  of 
Frederick  the  Great  which  Napoleon  had 
brought  to  Paris,  and  burned  the  fifteen-hun- 
dred foreign  army  flags  suspended  below  the 
vaulted  ceiling  of  the  chapel,  so  that  they 
should  not  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  allied 
forces  who  were  about  entering  the  capital. 

There  are  some  mysterious  vaults  under  the 


232 


PARIS. 


old  structure,  and  one  may  see  the  tombs  of  dis- 
tinguished persons  beneath  its  floors.  Descend 
the  steps,  cross  the  cold  galleries,  and,  by  the 
unsteady  light  of  torches,  read  on  bronze 
plates  the  names  of  more  than  a  hundred  heroes, 
from  the  first  Governor  of  the  Invalides,  who 
was  buried  in  the  gloomy  place  Nov.  10,  1678, 
to  that  of  General  Lasalle,  instantly  killed  at 
the  Battle  of  Wagram,  but  whose  remains  were 
carefully  brought  back  to  Paris.  Pass  between 
the  heavy  columns  surrounding  funeral  urns : 
one  of  them  contains  the  heart  of  Kleber,  who 
perished  in  Egypt;  in  another  of  gray  stone, 
on  which  is  a  serpent  of  green  bronze,  lies- 
the  heart  of  Vauban ;  a  third  holds  the  heart 
of  a  young  woman ! 

A  few  days  after  the  10th  of  August,  1792, 
Monsieur  de  Sombreuil,  charged  with  having 
taken  part  in  the  defence  of  the  Palais  des 
Tuileries,  was  arrested  and  taken  to  the 
Abbaye.  His  daughter  willingly  followed 
him,  and  this  act  of  devotion  sufficed  for  her 
glory  before  posterity.  The  4th  of  September, 
in  the  morning,  he  appeared  before  the  tribunal 
of  Maillard  and  his  acolytes.  The  accusation 
was  formal,  but  if  he  could  prove  that  he  had 
not  put  his  foot  inside  the  Tuileries  on  the  10th 


VICTIMS  OF  THE  GUILLOTINE.  233 


of  August  then  his  life  was  safe.  A  national 
guardsman  named  Grappin  generously  offered 
to  seek  such  proof.  He  ran  to  the  Invalides 
and  returned  with  a  letter  from  the  Major  in 
charge  attesting  to  the  presence  of  the  Gover- 
nor on  the  date  in  question.  This  did  not 
appear  to  be  sufficient,  however,  so  Grappin 
rushed  back,  gathered  the  old  soldiers  in  the 
courtyard,  and  secured  their  testimony. 
Hastening  to  the  Abbaye,  this  time  he  gained 
his  cause,  and  Sombreuil  was  set  free.  The 
legend  of  the  young  girl  being  compelled  to 
drink  a  glass  of  her  father's  blood  fades  before 
reality.  The  accused  was  not  pardoned  but 
was  acquitted;  on  the  jail  book  is  written  in 
Maillard's  hand :  "  Judged  by  the  people,  and 
liberated." 

It  was  not  for  long,  however,  as  the  un- 
fortunate man  was  again  arrested,  to  be  locked 
up  with  his  daughter  and  his  eldest  son  in  a 
prison  derisively  called  Port  Libre.  What  the 
Septembrists  had  not  done,  the  Revolutionary 
tribunal  did  not  hesitate  to  do.  Monsieur  de 
Sombreuil  and  his  son  were  included  in  the 
charge  of  June  17,  1794,  on  which  day  fifty- 
four  condemned  persons,  all  wearing  red 
blouses,  left  the  Conciergerie  in  eight  carts, 


234 


PARIS. 


escorted  by  cavalry  and  cannon.  It  took  them 
three  hours  to  reach  the  barrier  of  the  "  Trone 
Renverse "  where  the  scaffolding  had  been 
raised.  There,  with  the  two  Sombreuils, 
perished  many  men,  women,  young  girls, 
masters  and  servants  together,  all  faithful  to 
each  other  unto  death :  Madame  de  Saint  Ama- 
ranthe,  her  son  and  daughter ;  M.  and  Mme. 
de  Sartines  ;  Montmorency- Lavat ;  Rohane- 
Rochefort;  Mme.  d'  Espremenil;  Ladmiraland 
the  porter  of  his  house;  Cecile  Renault,  with 
her  father,  mother,  and  brothers;  the  actress 
Grandmaison  and  her  servant ;  the  little  seam- 
stress Mcolle,  who  was  not  yet  sixteen,  etc. 
These  unhappy  victims  were  all  interred  in 
a  cemetery  which  still  exists  in  the  Rue 
Picpus ;  and  this  is  why  we  shall  not  find  the 
tomb  of  Monsieur  de  Sombreuil  at  the  In- 
valides  among  those  of  former  Governors. 
But  in  the  Cemetery  of  the  Rue  Picpus,  where 
his  remains  do  lie,  you  will  find  the  tomb  of 
General  de  Lafayette,  the  friend  of  George 
Washington.  The  General  lies  buried  there 
alongside  of  his  sweet  and  noble  wife,  whose 
two  sisters  and  whose  duchess  mother  were  also 
beheaded  during  the  Reign  of  Terror. 

The  most  remarkable  funeral  service  which 


MILITARY  FUNERAL  AT  THE  INVALIDES. 


MAESHAL  MacMAHON'S  FUNERAL.  235 


I  beheld  at  the  Invalides  was  that  of  Marshal 
MacMahon.  Posterity  will  not  place  the 
Duke  of  Magenta  among  illustrious  captains, 
perhaps,  but  he  possessed  many  good  qualities, 
and  his  interment  was  a  grand  affair.  Mac- 
Mahon, not  as  exPresident  of  the  Republic,  but 
as  a  Marshal  of  France,  was  given  all  the  mili- 
tary and  religious  honours  which  could  be  paid 
to  his  remains.  The  spectacle  was  imposing  in 
the  extreme.  To  say  that  so  far  as  the  local 
society  who  have  charge  of  all  funerals  at  Paris 
was  concerned,  it  was  a  burial  service  of  the 
"first  class,"  is  to  tell  that  the  sacred  edifice 
was  heavily  draped  with  black  velvet  outside 
and  inside  ;  that  an  immense  catafalque  was 
erected  in  the  middle  of  the  building;  that 
the  four  figures  of  Faith,  Hope,  Charity,  and 
Religion  were  set  up  at  the  four  corners 
thereof ;  that  the  armorial  bearings  of  the  de- 
ceased Marshal,  alternating  with  the  names  of 
the  battles  in  which  he  had  been  engaged,  were 
ranged  in  shields  round  the  interior ;  and  that 
the  whole  was  dimly  illumined  by  green 
lights  flickering  in  tall  silvern  lampadaires. 

But  what  cannot  be  imagined  is  the  effect 
produced  by  the  torn  trophies  of  many  cam- 
paigns hung  from  the  ceiling  of  this  chapel,  and 


236 


PARIS. 


by  the  grand  music  of  the  ceremony.  A  mili- 
tary band  of  sixty  pieces  was  stationed  in  the 
gallery  over  the  front  doors,  while  near  the 
organ  loft  was  a  small  orchestra  of  wood  and 
stringed  instruments,  and  down  by  the  altar,  in 
front  of  the  officiating  clergymen,  stood  a  score 
of  drummers,  old  and  young  men,  who  at  cer- 
tain places  in  the  solemn  ceremony  rolled  their 
instruments.  The  contrast  between  the  stream- 
ing melody  that  flowed  down  from  the  gallery 
and  the  small  orchestra  of  violins  was  not  more 
striking  than  was  the  sound  of  the  roll  of 
drums  and  the  voices  of  men  of  God  praying 
for  the  soul  of  the  dead  soldier.  At  the  con- 
clusion of  the  religious  ceremony  the  coffin  was 
carried  out  of  the  chapel  and  placed  in  position 
on  the  broad  esplanade,  where  all  the  Army 
of  Paris  defiled  before  it,  officers  saluting,  and 
flags  being  dipped  as  the  body  was  passed; 
and  there  the  Marshal  held  his  last  review  be- 
fore retiring  to  rest  forever  beneath  the  gilded 
dome  which  symbolises  the  gratitude  of  France 
to  the  defenders  of  her  fame.  The  Republic 
had  pardoned  the  faults  of  the  political  man 
because  of  the  virtues  of  the  soldier. 

There  are  three  great  things  to  be  seen  at 
the  Invalides :    the  Chapel,  decorated  with 


THE  MUSEUM  OF  ARTILLERY.  237 


many  captured  flags  and  standards  which  long 
since  replaced  those  burned  in  1814  to  prevent 
their  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  Allies ;  the 
Artillery  Museum ;  and  the  Tomb  of  Napoleon 
under  the  gilded  dome.  The  flags  in  the  Ar- 
tillery Museum  and  in  the  Chapel,  those  taken 
from  an  enemy,  are  not  so  numerous  now  as 
they  were  in  1814,  when  there  were  more  than 
fifteen  hundred.  As  has  been  already  stated 
those  were  burned,  but  it  was  found  necessary 
to  repeat  the  order  three  times  before  the  old 
soldiers  would  obey.  Some  other  flags  captured 
in  the  wars  of  the  First  Republic  and  of  the 
First  Empire  were  accidentally  burned  in  1851, 
and  there  are  really  no  more  than  a  hundred  or  so 
now  hanging  up  over  the  Chapel  nave.  These 
were  mostly  taken  from  the  enemy  in  Algeria, 
in  the  Crimea,  in  Italy,  in  China,  in  Mexico, 
and  in  the  Tonkin.  One  flag  came  from  Sebas- 
topol ;  it  is  yellow  and  shows  the  double-headed 
eagle  of  Russia,  while  the  white  one  opposite  it 
once  floated  above  the  Tower  of  Malakoff. 
Among  this  choice  lot  is  a  Union  Jack  that  was 
captured  on  board  an  English  brig  in  1813,  also 
eight  Pasha-tails  taken  in  Egypt  by  General 
Bonaparte. 

The  Museum  of  Artillery  harbours  twelve 


238 


PARIS. 


captured  flags,  and  it  also  possesses  a  specimen 
of  all  French  flags  for  the  past  century ;  but  it 
only  has  four  standards  of  the  same  origin  an- 
terior to  the  French  Revolution.  This  collec- 
tion would  be  enormous  if  it  were  not  necessary 
to  deduct  those  burned  by  ministerial  decision 
with  each  change  of  government.  There  re- 
main, however,  nine  flags  of  the  Restoration, 
sixteen  of  the  July  Monarchy,  nine  ensigns  of 
the  Republic  of  1848,  and  ninety-seven  Imper- 
ial ensigns  of  the  Second  Empire,  most  of  which 
made  the  campaigns  of  the  Crimea  and  of  Italy. 
Since  the  present  Republic  was  founded,  this 
Museum  has  received  ten  ensigns,  or  fragments 
thereof,  which  escaped  the  disasters  of  the  fate- 
ful war  of  1870-71. 

The  remains  of  Bonaparte  were  brought  back 
from  St.  Helena  by  King  Louis  Philippe,  but 
it  was  while  Louis  Napoleon  was  on  the  throne 
that  the  Invalides  was  made  the  Imperial  tomb 
that  it  now  is. 

It  is  not  generally  known  that  there  was 
quite  a  scandal  in  connection  with  the  installa- 
tion or  inauguration  of  that  mausoleum.  Napo- 
leon III,  all  his  Ministers,  Prince-Marshal  Je- 
rome and  several  Generals  had  assembled  at 
the  Tuileries  to  arrange  the  programme.  Some 


AN  IMPERIAL  TOMB. 


239 


important  details  had  been  agreed  upon,  when 
one  of  the  Generals  observed  that  Napoleon  I 
being  the  founder  of,  and  having  thus  entered, 
with  his  posterity,  into  the  series  of  French 
Sovereigns,  the  better  way  for  them  to  do  would 
be  to  follow  the  practice  shown  toward  other 
French  monarchs  and  bury  the  remains  in  two 
places,  the  body  in  the  triumphal  mausoleum 
under  the  dome  of  the  Invalides,  the  heart  at 
Saint  Denis.  Thereupon  Prince  Jerome  sprang 
to  his  feet  and  most  energetically  declared  that 
not  so  long  as  he  lived  should  the  remains  of 
his  glorious  brother  be  thus  mutilated.  His  re- 
marks produced  a  profound  sensation,  and  for 
a  few  moments  not  another  word  was  spoken. 
Then  the  Emperor  adjourned  the  meeting,  and 
the  inauguration  was  postponed. 

Finally,  however,  all  parties  were  satisfied, 
and  the  mortal  remains  of  the  great  man  who 
has  written  in  his  will,  "  Je  veux  reposer  aux 
bords  de  la  Seine,  dans  les  lieux  que  j'ai  tant 
aimes,"  were  sealed  up  in  a  sarcophagus  that 
weighs  ninety  thousand  pounds  and  alone  cost 
sixty  thousand  dollars.  It  was  made  from  a 
single  block  of  reddish  Finland  quartz,  dotted 
all  over  with  golden  spots,  and  of  such  hard- 
ness that  it  could  be  cut  only  by  multiplied 


240 


PARIS, 


machinery.  The  block  was  quarried  at  Kost- 
ckoka,  on  the  shore  of  Lake  Onega,  and  was  the 
gift  of  the  Czar  of  Eussia.  It  was  brought  to 
Paris  by  way  of  Lake  Onega,  the  Koyr  river, 
Lake  Ladoga,  the  river  Neva,  Cronstadt,  the 
Baltig  Sea,  the  English  Channel,  the  port  of 
Havre,  and  thence  up  the  River  Seine  to  the 
Quai  d'Orsay.  It  cost  fifteen  hundred  dollars 
to  remove  the  massive  stone  from  that  quay  to 
the  Invalides;  and,  strange  to  say,  the  con- 
tractor who  had  brought  it  from  Eussia  was 
obliged  to  pay  a  Custom  House  duty  of  one 
thousand  dollars  before  he  was  permitted  to 
start  with  it  from  Havre. 

The  four  chapels  which  surround  the  Em- 
peror's resting-place  are  labeled  St.  Augustin, 
St.  Ambroise,  St.  Gregoire  and  St.  Jerome,  this 
last  in  memory  of  Napoleon's  brother.  These 
chapels  are  all  closed  to  the  public  by  heavy 
iron-barred  gates,  and  it  is  between  them  that 
the  tombs  of  Turenne  and  of  Vauban  are  placed, 
with  Napoleon's  crypt  uncovered.  There  was 
a  time,  toward  the  end  of  his  reign,  when  Louis 
Napoleon  was  for  transforming  the  church 
where  his  uncle  reposed  into  a  family  vault, 
destined  exclusively  for  the  Imperial  Dynasty 
which  he  then  represented.    Each  of  the  four 


napoleon's  resting-place. 


QUEEN  VICTOKIA'S  HOMAGE. 


241 


chapels  were  to  contain  a  tomb  of  one  of  Napo- 
leon's brothers,  but  as  things  happened  Jerome 
alone  secured  this  honour.  After  that  Louis 
Napoleon  had  another  notion  ;  he  was  for  trans- 
ferring the  remains  of  the  Emperor  as  well  as 
those  of  all  other  members  of  his  family,  to 
Saint  Denis,  but  that  project  was  never  real- 
ised. 

Apropos  of  this  tomb  of  Napoleon,  another 
great  French  soldier,  Marshall  Canrobert  des- 
cribes a  touching  incident  of  interest  to  all 
Anglo-Saxons  in  his  "  Memoirs,"  but  recently 
published. 1  At  the  end  of  the  Crimean  war 
Queen  Victoria,  accompanied  by  her  husband, 
and  their  two  oldest  children,  visited  Paris,  and 
while  there  were  taken  to  the  Invalides  to  see 
the  tomb  which  was  then  being  erected.  The 
remains  of  the  great  Emperor  were  already 
there,  but  not  in  the  magnificent  place  they  now 
occupy.  After  looking  at  it  for  a  few  moments 
in  silence  the  Queen,  placing  her  hand  on  the 
shoulder  of  the  Prince  of  Wales — now  King  of 
England — said  :  "  Kneel  down  before  the  tomb 
of  the  Great  Napoleon,' 7  and  young  Albert 
Edward  obeyed. 

i  "  Le  Marechel  Canrobert; "  Souvenirs  (Tun  Siecle  : 
Plon-Nouriet  et  Oie.,  Paris. 


242 


PARIS. 


It  may  be  added  that  France,  wliicli  does  not 
possess,  as  England  does  in  Westminster,  an 
illustrious  necropolis  for  great  men,  is  always 
undecided  where,  their  remains  shall  be  placed. 
While  Victor  Hugo  and  President  Carnot,  with 
some  few  others,  sleep  their  eternal  rest  in  the 
vaults  of  the  Pantheon,  while  Gambetta  reposes 
in  the  land  lighted  by  the  smiling  sun  of  the 
Mediterranean,  only  a  few  Generals  have  been 
interred  at  the  Invalides ;  and  yet  it  would  seem 
that  under  the  dome  where  lies  the  body  of  the 
greatest  captain  France  has  ever  known  would 
be  the  natural  last  resting-place  of  great  soldiers. 

Many  years  ago  there  was  a  royal  place  of 
burial  within  the  limits  of  the  capital,  a  spot 
lying  between  the  Boulevard  Haussmann  and 
the  Rue  des  Mathurins,  in  the  very  heart  of 
Paris,  and  which  a  quarter  of  a  century  back 
presented  a  very  different  appearance  from  its 
present  aspect.  Then,  surrounded  by  a  large 
garden  and  shut  in  by  high  walls,  it  had  the 
mournful  and  desolate  character  becoming  to 
such  a  place  of  sepulchre.  Willows,  yews,  firs, 
with  other  shrubbery  of  sombre  foliage,  bor- 
dered the  outskirts  of  the  place  like  a  hedge- 
row, and  gave  those  who  passed  the  enclosure 
melancholy  impressions. 


BUEIAL  OF  A  KING  AND  A  QUEEN.  243 


But  the  opening  of  the  Boulevard  Haussmann 
changed  all  that,  and  the  famous  Baron-Prefet 
transferred  the  lugubrious  hypogeum  into  a 
coquettish  square,  decorating  in  the  style  of 
the  day  the  monument  which  commemorates 
one  of  the  most  frightful  events  in  the  history 
of  Paris.  There  in  the  old  kitchen  garden  of 
the  Benedictines  of  La  Ville  l'Eveque,  trans- 
formed into  a  cemetery,  were  buried  the  victims 
of  the  marriage  festivities  of  the  Dauphin,  and 
there,  too,  were  interred  some  of  the  Swiss 
killed  on-  August  10  in  the  service  of  a  king 
who  did  not  wish  them  to  fight.  To  this  place, 
also,  in  January  21,  1793,  as  night  was  falling, 
an  ash-cart,  escorted  by  a  rabble  from  the 
Place  de  la  Revolution,  brought  the  mutilated 
body  of  the  descendant  of  a  race  of  kings.  On 
the  day  of  his  consecration,  and  according  to 
old  monarchical  custom,  Louis  XVI  reclined 
for  a  moment  in  a  velvet  burial  robe,  embroid- 
ered with  golden  fleurs  de  lys,  and  this  robe  had 
always  accompanied  the  Kings  of  France  during 
their  lives.  But  now  the  unfortunate  monarch, 
who  had  once  borne  this  sumptuous  funeral 
garb,  was  buried  in  a  cheap  shroud,  like  the 
poorest  of  his  subjects.  The  Republicans  of 
France  showed  little  respect  for  the  dead  King ; 


244 


PAEIS. 


they  threw  his  body  and  head  in  a  ditch  dug 
the  day  before,  covered  it  with  quicklime,  and 
that  was  all. 

On  October  16  following,  another  ash-cart 
stopped  before  the  gate  of  the  small  cemetery  ; 
it  carried,  covered  by  a  cheap  black  gown  and 
petticoat,  the  bloody  trunk  and  whitened  head 
of  a  woman  of  thirty-eight — all  that  remained  of 
the  once  triumphant  beauty  of  Versailles  and 
the  petit  Trianon ;  all  that  remained  of  the  sov- 
ereign to  whom  the  city  of  Nancy,  on  her  ar- 
rival on  French  soil,  had  offered  a  bed.  of  roses. 

On  the  return  of  the  Bourbons,  the  bodies 
of  Louis  XVI,  of  Marie  Antoinette  and  of 
Madame  Elizabeth  were  removed  to  Saint 
Denis,  and  a  monument  of  doubtful  taste,  which 
has  since  been  a  place  of  pilgrimage  for  Royal- 
ists, without  the  faintest  effort  of  the  Republic 
to  prevent  it,  was  erected  to  commemorate 
their  first  burial  ground. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  however,  the  real  Royal 
place  of  sepulchre  was  never  within  the  fortifi- 
cations of  Paris.  That  place  was  out  at  Saint 
Denis,  a  village  but  a  short  distance  from  the 
capital,  and  where  under  the  high  vaults  of  a 
rural  church,  under  recumbent  stone  statues 
representing  themselves,  nearly  fifty  Kings  of 


ROYALTY  AT  SAINT  DENIS.  245 


France  and  fifty  Queens  were  once  sleeping  an 
eternal  and  everlasting  sleep.  From  the  time 
of  Dagobert  I,  and  passing  by  Hugues  Capet, 
Saint  Louis,  Frangois  I,  Henri  IV,  Louis 
XIII,  and  Louis  XIV,  up  to  tlie  last  Majesty 
cold  in  death  and  waiting  in  its  Bourbon  crypt, 
all  of  those  who  for  fifteen  hundred  and  more 
years  had  been,  if  not  the  glory  at  least  the  rep- 
resentation of  France  were  reposing  in  the  old 
church  of  Saint  Denis,  a  few  miles  from  Paris. 
The  tombs,  disseminated  in  the  chapels,  or 
stuffed  into  the  crypt,  had  become  so  numerous 
that  there  was  hardly  room  enough  for  another 
Royal  corpse  when  the  Revolution  broke  forth. 
Then  the  Convention  first  ordered  the  destruc- 
tion of  those  tombs,  and  after  that  the  viola- 
tion of  their  coffins. 

On  the  6th  of  August,  1793,  a  crowd  led  by 
the  Mayor  of  Saint  Denis,  rushed  into  the  old 
church.  This  mayor  had  been  a  priest ;  now 
he  stood  up  to  shout,  in  half-drunken  notes,  the 
"  Hymn  to  Mars  "  or  u  Cadet  Roussille  "  where 
only  a  short  while  before  he  had  preached  the 
word  of  God.  The  crowd  advanced  to  the 
altar,  a  little  surprised,  if  not  ashamed,  at  their 
own  conduct,  not  having  as  yet  lost  all  respect 
for  holy  places. 


246 


PARIS. 


They  entered  one  of  the  chapels  where,  along- 
side of  Du  Guesclin  and  Louis  de  Sancorne,  re- 
posed King  Charles  V  and  his  wife,  next 
Charles  VI,  and  then  Charles  VII,  to  whom  a 
child  of  the  people  had  handed  the  royal 
crown.  The  crowd  struck  hard  the  "  hated 
figures  of  these  tyrants  "  with  their  hammers, 
and  with  cries  of  joy  saluted  each  hideous  break 
in  the  recumbent  statues.  They  refused  to 
destroy  the  tomb  of  Turenne  because  it  had 
not  been  raised  to  the  glory  of  a  ci-devant 
King,  but  they  were  less  sparing  with  the 
tomb  of  Du  Guesclin,  only  the  effigy  of  it 
being  saved. 

When  they  had  tired  of  breaking  off  noses, 
fingers,  feet  and  heads  from  statues,  they  opened 
a  few  coffins,  because  it  had  long  been  believed 
that  most  of  them  contained  great  treasures  ; 
but  all  they  found  was  a  little  gold  wire  in  that 
of  Pepin  and  the  signet  ring  of  Castille.  On 
each  coffin  was  an  inscription  cut  on  a  small 
slab  of  lead  or  copper,  and  these  were  torn  off. 

Inside  of  three  days  fifty-one  royal  graves 
were  thus  desecrated  and  destroyed ;  but  as  yet 
the  mad  people  were  not  satisfied.  They  had 
broken  the  images  of  their  kings,  now  they 
were  determined  to  attack  the  mortal  remains 


DESECRATING  THE  GRAVES.  247 


of  those  majesties.  First  of  all  tlie  "  citizens  " 
of  Saint  Denis,  with  whom  were  joined  several 
conventionnels  from  Paris,  stopped  before  the 
tomb  of  Turenne,  and  soon  his  coffin  was  torn 
open,  the  dried-up  corpse  was  removed,  put  into 
an  oaken  box  and  deposited  in  the  sacristy, 
where  it  was  kept  on  exhibition  for  eight 
months.  In  the  mean  time  all  the  teeth  were 
pulled  out  and  sold  one  by  one  as  souvenirs. 
Finally,  the  remains  were  taken  to  the  Jardin 
des  Plantes,  where  they  rested  two  years,  after 
which  they  were  solemnly  deposited  in  the  Tem- 
ple of  Mars,  ci-devant  church  of  the  Invalides. 

A  short  while  after  the  mob  had  attacked 
Turenne's  tomb  they  were  joined  by  Robes- 
pierre, who  insisted  that  the  vault  of  the  Bour- 
bons should  be  found  at  once,  and  it  was  found, 
the  secret  entrance  to  it  being  just  before  and 
to  the  right  of  the  high  altar.  This  door  was 
opened,  a  party  descended  into  the  crypt,  and 
at  the  foot  of  the  stone  steps  they  came  on  the 
coffin  of  Louis  XV.  A  little  further  along, 
side  by  side  and  ranged  in  the  same  line,  were 
twenty  tombs  or  graves  on  the  left ;  while  on 
the  right  were  the  tombs  of  Henri  IV  and  of 
Marie  de  Medicis.  As  it  was  impossible  to 
carry  the  coffin  of  that  King  up  the  narrow 


248 


PARIS. 


steps,  a  hole  was  broken  through  the  wall  of 
the  church,  and  thus  the  remains  of  Henri  IV 
were  raped  from  the  spot  where  they  had  been 
resting  during  two  centuries. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


Back  again  to  the  great  century — Senseless  adoration 
of  Louis  XIV— The  Porte  Saint  Martin  and  Porte 
Saint  Denis — Creation  of  the  Place  des  Conquetes 
—Equestrian  Statue  of  the  "Sun  King  "—The 
Vendome  Column — Its  many  incidents  and  hap- 
penings— Overthrown  by  the  Communists — Anec- 
dote of  General  Bonaparte — Effigy  of  the  famous 
Captain  at  its  top — Institut  de  France — Its  five 
great  academies — Their  annual  convention — The 
Forty  Immortals. 

Let  us  hark  back  again  to  the  Grand  Steele, 
to  the  age  of  adulation  of  "  Lui  tou jours,  lui 
partout,"  him  always,  him  everywhere,  as  was 
said  of  Louis  XIV.  In  painting,  in  mosaics, 
in  stone,  in  marble,  in  bronze,  in  literature, 
even  in  the  pulpit,  it  was,  under  all  aspects  and 
in  every  form,  the  "  Sun  King"  who  was  most 
in  evidence.  It  was  as  if  there  were  no  other 
person  under  Heaven,  no  other  thing  on  earth 
worth  painting,  worth  sculpturing,  worth  sing- 
ing or  writing  about,  or  worth  talking  of. 

The  Porte  Saint  Martin,  in  the  boulevard,  is 
a  striking  example  of  this  senseless  adoration. 


250 


PAEIS. 


It  is  a  massive  fabrication,  but  why  should  such 
an  arch  as  that  ever  have  been  erected  in  the 
middle  of  a  public  street  is  more  than  any  one 
can  tell.  True,  it  is  not  without  artistic  merit, 
and  it  would  never  do  to  pull  it  down,  for  it  is 
a  splendid  historical  monument,  but  the  inscrip- 
tion, in  golden  letters,  LUDOVICO  MAGNO, 
put  there  while  he  was  still  living,  is  rather 
out  of  place  in  a  busy  thoroughfare. 

The  Porte  Saint  Denis,  close  by,  is  less  heavy 
and  more  elegant,  but  it  bears  the  same  inscrip- 
tion, and  is  another  chant  of  the  same  flattery. 
These  two  triumphal  arches  were  not  enough 
for  the  great  conqueror,  however.  He  erected 
the  Porte  Saint  Antoine,  near  the  Bastille ;  he 
built  the  Porte  St.  Bernard  and  placed  on  it 
the  inscription,  "  A  la  Providence  de  Louis  le 
Grand  "  ;  and  he  started  another  arch  on  the 
Place  du  Trone,  but  it  was  never  finished. 
%  Not  yet  satisfied,  he  created  the  Place  des 
Victoires,  and  in  the  centre  of  this  round  space, 
on  a  marble  pedestal  enclosed  by  an  iron  fence, 
stood  Louis  XIV  being  crowned  by  Victory 
and  stamping  a  monster,  emblem  of  resistance 
to  conquest,  under  his  feet.  Four  kneeling 
slaves  in  chains  represented  humiliated  nations, 
while  at  the  four  corners  of  the  pedestal  were 


SENSELESS  ADORATION  OF  LOUIS  XIV.  251 


four  lamps,  and  this  inscription,  VIRO  IM- 
MORTAL!, was  written  over  all.  That  statue 
was  destroyed  in  1792,  however,  and  the  eques- 
trian one  which  now  ornaments  the  Place  des 
Victoires  was  put  there  in  1822. 

Thirteen  years  passed,  and  the  "  Sun  King  " 
again  began  to  crown  himself  with  splendour. 
This  time  it  was  the  creation  of  the  Place  des 
Conquetes  on  the  site  of  a  vast  and  lordly  man- 
sion, together  with  the  ruins  of  a  monastery. 

Caesar  de  Vendome,  the  natural  son  of  Henri 
IV,  became  the  owner  of  a  mansion  which  the 
Duke  de  Retz  had  erected  during  the  reign  of 
Charles  IX,  with  gardens  extending  on  one  side 
from  the  Tuileries  to  the  boulevards,  and  on  the 
other  adjoined  a  Capucin  convent.  The  estate 
remained  in  the  hands  of  the  Vendome  family 
until  1680,  when  Louvois  purchased  it  in  order 
to  place  there  a  private  library  for  and  an 
equestrian  statue  of  Louis  XIV  by  the  King's 
command.  The  statue  was  inaugurated  in 
August,  1699,  with  a  display  of  splendour  which 
recalled  the  most  brilliant  days  of  that  reign. 

Overwhelmed  by  the  epidemic  scourges  of 
1692  and  1693,  France  was  hardly  beginning 
to  recover  when  a  new  scourge  of  famine  ap- 
peared ;  but  the  mortality  then  raging  among 


252 


PAEIS. 


tlie  poor  and  working  class  did  not  cause  the 
putting  off  of  that  ceremony.  Of  the  entire 
Court  one  man  only  refused  to  assist  at  the 
display,  and  he  was  the  Duke  de  Bourgogne, 
grandson  of  the  King  and  pupil  of  the  illustri- 
ous Fenelon. 

The  old  convent  with  other  houses  were  torn 
down,  and  the  f  agades  as  they  exist  to-day  were 
constructed.  The  place  is  an  equilateral  square 
with  the  corners  cut  off  and  whose  sides  are 
four  hundred  and  thirty-six  feet  long,  all  the 
houses  being  uniform  in  their  architecture. 

Under  the  Regency,  the  Hotel  Quinquam- 
poix  having  become  too  small  to  hold  all  the 
speculators  whom  "  Mississippi "  Law  was 
driving  mad,  stock  gambling  was  transferred 
to  the  Place  Vendome,  into  the  very  presence 
of  the  King,  and  under  the  windows  of  the 
Minister  of  Justice.  The  revolution  having 
come  on,  the  bronze  king  on  a  bronze  horse  was 
overthrown,  and  the  square  was  renamed,  Place 
des  Piques ;  but  habit  preserved  its  old  name 
of  Vendome. 

After  the  campaign  of  1806,  Napoleon  I  con- 
ceived the  project  of  erecting  a  column  to  the 
glory  of  his  army  in  the  Place.  That  monu- 
ment, finished  in  1810,  was  cast  oat  of  the 


THE  COLUMN  VEJNTDOME, 


253 


bronze  of  1200  cannons  captured  from  Russians 
and  Austrians,  and  it  was  intended  to  be  a 
durable  monument  of  success  and  glory,  raised 
rather  to  the  honour  of  a  great  nation  than  to 
that  of  a  single  man.  It  was  one  hundred  and 
forty-eight  feet  high,  and  was  built  of  cutj 
stone  covered  over  with  four  hundred  and 
twenty-five  bronze  plates,  representing  in  a  con- 
tinual spiral  the  memorable  events  of  Napoleon's 
campaigns.  One  hundred  and  seventy  steps 
inside  the  column  led  up  to  where,  at  the  top, 
the  Emperor  stood,  dressed  in  imperial  robes, 
with  a  crown  on  his  head  and  holding  a  scep- 
tre. 

Guy  de  Maupassant  has  left  on  record  an 
agreeable  anecdote  of  this  column.  Bonaparte, 
then  only  a  major  in  the  French  artillery,  had 
been  dining  at  the  house  of  General  d'Anger- 
ville,  brother-in-law  to  Berthier,  and,  with 
Madame  Talien  leaning  on  his  arm,  was  walk- 
ing through  the  Place  des  Piques.  Berthier 
and  d'Angerville,  who  lived  in  one  of  the 
houses  surrounding  the  square,  were  also  of  the 
party.  "Your  square  is  quite  lost,  General," 
said  the  future  Emperor  to  d' Angerville ; 
"  What  it  needs  is  something  in  the  centre  like 
a  Trajan  column,  or  a  monumental  tomb  to  hold 


254 


PARIS. 


the  remains  of  the  bravest  soldiers  who  have 
died  for  their  country. "  Madame  d7Angerville 
said  she  preferred  a  column  to  a  tomb  in  front 
of  her  residence ,  whereupon  Bonaparte  laugh- 
ingly remarked:  "Well,  my  dear  madame, 
some  day  when  Berthier  and  I  are  also  generals, 
you  shall  have  your  column."  He  kept  his 
word  after  the  battle  of  Austerlitz. 

In  1814,  when  Paris  was  occupied  by  the 
Allies,  the  Russians  wanted  to  overthrow  this 
monument  of  their  defeats,  but  they  were  only 
permitted  to  pull  down  the  statue.  From  that 
time  until  1830  the  column  was  surmounted  by 
a  fleurs  de  lys  nearly  five  feet  high,  and  above 
that  was  a  tall  staff  from  which  floated  a  white 
flag. 

The  year  when  Thiers  and  his  French  troops 
were  at  Versailles,  and  the  Prussians  were  still 
on  the  soil  of  France,  madmen  perpetrated 
many  inglorious  acts,  and  one  of  them  was  the 
attempted  destruction  of  this  monument.  A 
man  whose  wife  kept  a  large  millinery  establish- 
ment, at  the  corner  of  the  Place  Vendome  and 
the  Rue  Castiglione,  begged  the  mob  not  to 
tear  it  down ;  and  his  wife  even  offered  them 
one  million  francs  if  they  would  leave  it  un- 
molested.   But  they  demanded  two  million,  and 


VARIOUS  STATUES  OF  NAPOLEON.  255 


that  sum  not  being  forthcoming,  they  accom- 
plished their  vandal  act.  The  Communists 
were  led  by  Courbet,  a  famous  painter,  who 
left  a  large  fortune  at  his  death,  and,  after  a 
long  lawsuit  his  heirs  were  forced  to  pay  the 
cost  of  reconstructing  the  column.  It  was  re- 
built in  1874. 

The  colossal  image  of  Napoleon,  which  stands 
now  at  the  summit  of  the  Colonne  Vendome  is 
not  the  original,  however;  and  it  is  worth  re- 
cording here  that  on  the  morrow  of  the  entrance 
of  the  Allies  into  Paris  the  column  itself  would 
have  been  destroyed  from  top  to  bottom,  but  for 
the  intervention  of  the  foreigners.  As  it  was 
the  drapecm  fleur  de  lise}  which  replaced  the 
statue  by  Chaudet  after  the  Emperor's  exile 
to  Elba,  in  turn  disappeared  during  the  One 
Hundred  Days,  to  reappear,  however,  with  the 
second  Restoration.  In  1832  a  new  statue  of 
Napoleon,  of  a  model  quite  different  from  that 
of  Chaudet,  replaced  the  white  flag.  Its  sculp- 
tor, M.  Seurre,  represented  the  Emperor  in  his 
traditional  costume  of  the  u  Little  Corporal," 
that  is  to  say,  wearing  a  cocked  hat  and  a  long 
gray  redingote.  A  reduction  of  this  statue  is 
in  the  museum  at  Versailles.  Napoleon  III, 
no  doubt  finding  that  the  dynastic  idea  was  in- 


256 


PARIS. 


sufficiently  symbolised  in  the  Seurre  figure, 
commanded  that  the  Petit  Caporal  should  make 
way  for  Caesar,  and  then  was  seen — third  avatar 
of  the  Napoleonic  effigy  on  the  Vendome  Col- 
umn— an  antique  statue  of  nude  legs,  twith  a 
Victory  in  his  hand  and  a  chlamyde  over  his 
shoulders,  in  the  place  of  the  modern  emperor 
and  his  long  frock  coat. 

But  the  column  and  its  colossal  image  was 
not  yet  at  the  end  of  its  misfortunes.  Six  days 
before  the  troops  from  Versailles  had  retaken 
Paris,  the  Colonne  Vendome  was  overthrown 
by  orders  of  the  insurrectional  government. 
And  when  it  came  down  with  a  mighty  crash 
an  immense  clamour  of  "  Vive  la  Commune  !  " 
arose  from  the  crowd,  even  as  a  great  cry  of 
u  Vive  le  Hoi !  "  had  gone  up  when  the  statue 
of  Napoleon  fell  the  8th  of  April,  1814. 

Finally,  the  column  and  its  crowning  statue, 
as  it  now  stands,  was  erected  in  1874.  At  first 
it  was  a  question  of  replacing  the  figure  of  the 
emperor  with  one  of  France,  but  that  resolution 
was  abandoned,  and  a  statue  of  the  great  cap- 
tain was  put  at  the  top  of  the  glorious  column. 

It  is  not  very  far  from  this  splendid  Place 
Vendome  to  the  whereabouts  of  the  French 
Academy. 


INSTITUT  DE  FRANCE. 


257 


There  may  be  other  countries  which  have 
Academies  that  rival,  in  illustrious  membership 
and  by  the  importance  of  their  works,  either 
one  of  the  five  which,  combined,  form  the  Insti- 
tut  de  France,  but  in  Paris  alone  is  the  one 
organisation  where  all  the  best  eiforts  of  the 
human  mind  are  bound  together:  where  the 
historian,  the  poet,  the  journalist,  the  play- 
wright, the  critic,  the  publicist,  the  philosopher, 
the  philologist,  the  chemist,  the  botanist,  the 
mathematician,  the  physician,  the  astronomer, 
the  naturalist,  the  novelist,  the  economist,  the 
juriconsulist,  the  sculptor,  the  painter,  the 
musician  and  the  engineer  are  under  the  same 
roof.  It  was  the  last  but  one  day  of  the 
French  convention  (An  3  of  the  Revolution) 
when  the  law  was  passed  that  established  the 
Institut  de  France,  the  object  of  which  was 
the  progress  of  science,  literature,  and  art,  as 
well  as  the  general  utility  and  glory  oi  the 
First  Republic.  This  institute  is  comprised  of 
five  academies  —  the  French  Academy,  the 
Academy  of  Inscriptions  and  Belles-Lettres, 
the  Academy  of  Moral  and  Political  Sciences, 
the  Academy  of  Sciences,  and  the  Academy  of 
Fine  Arts.  The  first  of  these  was  founded  in 
1635  by  Cardinal  Richelieu,  and  has  but  forty 


258 


PAEIS. 


members.  The  second,  also  founded  in  1635, 
but  by  Colbert,  is,  like  tile  French  Academy, 
composed  of  forty  regular  members,  although 
it  has  in  addition,  ten  honorary,  fifty  corres- 
ponding, and  eight  foreign  members.  The 
Academy  of  Moral  and  Political  Sciences  dates 
from  1666,  but  it  was  suppressed  in  1803,  to  be 
re-established  in  1832.  As  now  organised,  it 
is  divided  into  eight  sections  —  philosophy, 
ethics,  legislation,  political  economy,  jurispru- 
dence, finance  and  statistics,  general  history, 
and  an  honorary  section,  in  which  there  are 
ten  members ;  while  there  are  only  eight,  all  of 
them  regular  members,  in  each  of  the  other 
sections.  The  Academy  of  Sciences  was  founded 
in  1666,  and  its  sixty-five  members  are  divided 
into  eleven  sections,  each  of  which  is  charged 
with  a  distinct  branch  of  the  natural  sciences ; 
ten  honorary  and  one  hundred  corresponding 
members  complete  this,  the  most  numerous 
branch  of  the  institute.  The  Academy  of  Fine 
Arts  was  founded  in  1819,  and  contains  forty 
members,  divided  into  five  sections — painting, 
sculpture,  architecture,  engraving  and  music. 

"When  the  Institut  de  France  was  finally 
created  it  was  necessary  to  find  a  shelter  for  the 
body  of  savants,  literary  men,  and  artists  that  its 


ITS  FIVE  GREAT  ACADEMIES.  259 


membership  included,  and  as  there  was  a  large 
edifice  on  the  site  of  the  famous  Tour  de  Nesle, 
which  Cardinal  Mazarin  had  had  built  in  1661,  it 
was  resolved  to  establish  the  Institute  in  it,  and 
since  then  his  old  palace  has  been  called  on  to 
reign  over  intelligence,  to  impose  its  laws,  and 
to  distribute  its  rewards — pacific  laurels  not 
less  noble,  and  much  more  useful,  than  all  the 
warlike  laurels  that  were  ever  wreathed. 

Each  of  the  five  academies  is  independent  of 
the  other,  and  has  the  free  disposal  of  its  funds 
and  its  separate  state  appropriation,  which  it 
manages  under  the  supervision  of  the  Ministiy 
of  Public  Instruction,  but  the  library  is  com- 
mon property.  Each  Academy  holds  a  weekly 
meeting,  and  yearly,  on  the  25th  of  October, 
all  five  unite  in  an  annual  session,  which  is  one 
of  the  great  literary  solemnities  of  the  Paris 
year. 

It  has  been  remarked  that  no  other  country 
has  so  complete  an  organisation  of  all  the  besfc 
efforts  of  the  human  mind  as  the  French  Insti- 
tute ;  but  it  is  not  pretended  that  that  institution 
is  perfect  in  every  respect,  or  that  it  does  not 
need  reforming.  Generally  speaking,  however, 
it  is  an  Institution  deserving  of  the  highest 
praise,  and  it  certainly  is  one  of  the  essential 


260 


PAKIS, 


elements  of  intellectual  labour  in  tlie  French 
Republic. 

It  is  undoubted  that  the  intellectual  regime 
of  France  does  not  equal  that  of  the  United 
States,  or  of  England,  or  of  Germany.  The 
political  centralisation  in  France — that  is  to 
say,  the  reunion  of  all  authority  and  of  all  the 
forces  of  the  State  in  the  hands  of  the  govern- 
ment, does  not  permit  of  numerous  and  power- 
ful Universities  or  Colleges  like  Harvard,  Yale, 
Pennsylvania,  Cornell,  Princeton,  Chicago, 
Columbia,  etc.,  in  the  United  States,  like  Ox- 
ford and  Cambridge  in  England,  or  like  Bonn 
and  Heidelberg  in  Germany. 

The  late  M.  Penan  is  my  authority  for  the 
assertion  that  with  the  French  u  science  and 
education  are  distinct  things,  which  are  often 
jealous  of  and  enemies  of  each  other."  This  is, 
perhaps,  not  so  true  now  as  it  was  when  he 
said  it;  but  the  distinction  is  still  well  pre- 
served, and  the  regime  of  pure  intellectual 
liberty  does  not  yet  seem  to  agree  with  the 
French  people.  Still,  it  cannot  be  denied 
that,  in  the  domains  of  physical  sciences,  in 
astronomy,  in  geography,  in  belles-lettres,  in 
botany,  in  political  and  moral  sciences,  in  medi- 
cine and  surgery,  and  in  the  fine  arts — espe- 


THE  ACADEMIE  FKAN£AISE.  261 

cially  music  and  painting — no  other  nation 
can  make  a  better  showing  than  France  at  the 
present  time. 

But  if  the  five  Academies  which  constitute 
the  Institute  are  powerful  bodies  whose  mem- 
berships are,  in  the  main,  made  up  of  brainy  men, 
one  of  them  is  perhaps  more  universally  known 
than  the  others,  I  refer  to  the  Academie  Fran- 
chise. The  great  interest  which  attaches  to 
that  famous  body  in  the  choice  of  its  members, 
its  works,  the  awards  it  gives,  its  general 
raison  d'etre  is  not  without  considerable  im- 
portance throughout  the  world.  There  is  a 
sort  of  universal  good  feeling  toward  that  In- 
stitution for  the  splendid  examples  it  has  fur- 
nished ;  it  is  remembered,  too,  that  it  has  been 
the  cradle  of  state's  equality  in  Europe,  and 
for  a  long  while,  its  independence  has  been 
one  of  its  greatest  merits.  It  forms  in  itself  a 
little  republic,  and  it  is,  so  to  speak,  the  "  hon- 
our of  the  French  republic,"  for  nowhere 
could  the  inscription,  u  Liberte,  Egalite,  Fra- 
ternite,"  be  written  more  apropos  than  on  its 
walls. 

The  elections  to  membership  among  its  illus- 
trious body  of  men  are  without  preliminary 
examination  and  discussion.    The  other  Acade- 


262 


PARIS, 


mies  of  the  French  Institute  indulge  in  more 
of  ceremony ;  they  name  committees  and  hear 
reports,  which  formalities  cause  delays  that 
make  the  operation  last  during  an  entire  month, 
sometimes  two  of  them.  But  the  French 
Academy  never  has  special  committees,  it  never 
has  reports  as  to  the  comparative  value  of  can- 
didates, though,  like  the  other  Academies,  it 
used  to  have  a  general  discussion  one  week  be- 
fore the  election.  Twenty-five  or  thirty  years 
ago  Academicians  discovered  the  inconvenience 
of  such  discussion,  and  they  saw  none  in  si- 
lence— this  in  itself  included  a  great  idea.  It 
rests  on  the  principle  that  no  person  will  dare 
knock  at  the  door  of  the  French  Academy  un- 
less he  is  already  celebrated.  For  the  same 
reason  no  public  sign  is  manifested  over  an 
election.  The  Academy  does  not  even  write 
to  the  chosen  one.  The  great  idea  is  that  an 
election  at  the  French  Academy  is  such  an  im- 
portant event  that  no  one  can  be  ignorant  of  it, 
and  the  elected  must  learn  of  it,  as  everybody 
else  does,  by  the  press  or  public  talk.  An 
election  is  comprised  of  two  operations :  first, 
the  candidate  poses  his  candidature ;  secondly, 
the  Academy,  after  having  heard  the  reading 
of  the  letters  of  candidature,  proceeds  to  vote. 


THE  FOKTY  IMMORTALS.  263 


A  letter  of  candidature  is  required,  for  the 
Academy  does  not  seek  the  candidate,  the  can- 
didate seeks  the  Academy.  There  are  never 
more  than  forty  members ;  they  need  not  be 
native  born,  but  they  must  be  French  citizens, 
and  they  must  live  in  Paris  to  be  eligible. 

The  day  when  the  French  Academy  became 
one  of  the  Institutions  of  the  monarchy,  literary 
men  had  gained  rank  and  position  in  society ;  and 
by  right  of  commitimus,  the  forty  academicians 
became  the  equals  of  Officers  of  the  Crown,  of 
Dukes  and  Peers,  even  of  Royal  Princes. 
Equality  was  raised  to  be  an  immovable  princi- 
ple, for  the  forty  had  no  one  person  among  them 
who  dominated  or  effaced  his  fellows.  De- 
spite the  liberty  they  had  in  choosing  their 
officers,  they  did  not  even  have  a  President. 
It  is  a  Director  elected  for  two  months  who 
represents  the  company  on  important  occasions. 
The  Secretary  alone,  guardian  of  traditions, 
and  charged  with  everything,  is  perpetually  in 
office,  while  their  arm  chairs,  as  with  the  col- 
lars of  the  Golden  Fleece,  are  transmitted 
from  predecessor  to  successor.  And  so  the 
Academy  is  that  Institution  in  the  world 
toward  which  every  man  in  France  who  is 
great  or  gifted  has  ambitious  longings,  while 


264 


PARIS. 


only  a  few  are  chosen.  It  is  an  Institution  of 
great  merit,  as  are  also  tlie  other  four  branches 
of  the  Institute,  for  that  matter,  and  each 
deserves  the  high  reputation  which  it  uni- 
versally enjoys. 

As  for  the  palace  in  which  they  meet,  it 
is  a  large,  cold,  classic,  severe  structure  on  the 
left  bank  of  the  River  Seine  at  the  very  begin- 
ning of  the  Latin  Quarter.  Everything  is 
solemn,  everything  is  silent  about  it.  Pacific 
bronze  lions  guard  access  to  the  building  and 
to  its  library.  The  public  meeting-room  con- 
tains about  one  thousand  seats,  and  whenever 
there  is  a  public  function  in  the  place  this  hall 
is  crowded  by  those  who  are  honoured  with  in- 
vitations to  that  event. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


Upon  the  hill  of  Sainte  Genevieve — A  land  of  church 
and  university — The  Shepherd  girl  of  Nanterre — 
A  patriotic  and  heroic  saint — Vow  of  King  Louis 
XV — An  edifice  topped  with  cross  and  dome  called 
the  Pantheon — Interments  in  its  gloomy  vaults — 
Burial-place  of  Victor  Hugo — The  Church  of  the 
Madeleine — Why  Napoleon  started  its  construction 
— Its  destination  changed — Death  of  the  first 
architect — Like  unto  a  Greek  Temple,  but  really 
a  House  of  God. 

The  Roman  people  and  their  Senators,  a 
long  way  ahead  of  the  advent  of  eclecticism, 
prided  themselves  on  having  conquered  and  con- 
fiscated all  gods,  even  as  they  had  conquered 
and  confiscated  nearly  all  the  countries  of  the 
ancient  world.  Before  the  rotunda  of  Agrippa 
was  erected,  Rome  had  consecrated  her  altars  to 
the  unknown  gods;  for  as  religion  with  the 
ancients  was  little  more  than  a  glorification  of 
the  forces  of  Nature,  represented  by  more  or 
less  fabulous  personages,  it  is  easy  to  under- 
stand why  these  Romans  united  all  these  figures 
within  the  same  circle.  They  even  deified  their 
Emperors. 


266 


PAEIS. 


The  time  cgme  when  the  French  capital  also 
determined  to  have  its  Pantheon,  and  the  spot 
and  buildings  already  existed  for  that  purpose. 
The  summit  of  the  hill  where  the  Paris  Pan- 
theon now  raises  its  gigantic  dome  was  occu- 
pied centuries  before  by  the  Abbey  of  Sainte 
Genevieve;  the  church  of  Saint  Etienne  du 
Mont  and  its  cemetery;  the  colleges  of  Na- 
varre, of  Boucourt,  of  the  Ave  Maria,  of  For- 
tet,  of  Montaigne,  of  Sainte  Barbe,  of  the 
Cholets,  and  of  Lisieux;  the  little  church  of 
Saint  Etienne  des-Gres,  and  the  Convent  of 
the  Jacobins. 

It  was  a  land  of  Church  and  University; 
while  "  afar  off  "  the  Abbey  and  the  convent 
grounds  touched  the  walls  of  King  Philippe 
Augustus.  The  region,  where  silence  reigned 
save  when  the  many  bells  were  ringing,  became 
animated  every  year  at  the  beginning  of  January 
when,  "  from  twenty  leagues  around,"  pilgrims 
hurried  up  to  Sainte  Genevieve,  and  then  a  pro- 
cession marched  through  the  town.  To  prepare 
themselves  for  this  solemnity,  the  hundred  and 
fifty  Canons  fasted  during  three  days ;  next 
they  descended  from  "  la  montagne"  and  walked 
the  streets  with  bare  feet,  the  Abbot  at  their 
head,  wearing  his  cross  and  mitre.    These  were 


A  PATRIOTIC  SAINT.  267 


accompanied  by  a  crowd  of  young  girls  from 
the  seven  parishes  of  Notre  Dame,  officers  of 
the  Grand  Chatelet,  members  of  Parliament  in 
red  robes,  the  Governor  of  Paris,  the  Prevot  of 
the  Merchants  and  his  Echevins,  goldsmiths 
carrying  the  chair  of  Saint  Marcel,  and  twenty 
bourgeois,  dressed  in  white,  bearing  Sainte  Gen- 
evieve, sparkling  with  gold  and  pearls,  rubies 
and  emeralds. 

Genevieve  was  a  patriotic  and  heroic  saint. 
It  was  she  who  reassured  the  Parisians  when 
they  were  about  to  fly  before  the  Huns.  While 
the  people  were  defending  Paris  against  Clovis, 
she  succeeded  in  reaching  the  capital  with 
eleven  boats  from  Champagne  loaded  with  eat- 
ables. She  would  not  open  the  gates  of  the 
city  to  the  king  until  he  had  promised  to 
respect  the  privileges  of  the  old  municipality, 
then  being  defended  by  the  Nautes  and  Bishop 
Heraclius.    So  the  legend  runs. 

King  Clovis  built  a  church  on  a  hill,  which 
was  called  the  Church  of  Sainte  Genevieve 
after  the  mortal  remains  of  the  Shepherd  Girl 
of  Nanterre  had  been  buried  there.  It  was 
destroyed  by  the  Normans  during  one  of  their 
many  invasions  ;  then  bye  and  bye  the  Abbey  of 
Sainte  Genevieve  was  constructed  on  the  site. 


268 


PARIS. 


In  1724  Louis  XV,  very  sick  at  Metz,  a  city 
which  then  belonged  to  France,  vowed  that  if 
lie  got  well  there  should  be  another  church 
erected  on  the  hill  of  Sainte  Genevieve,  and 
Heaven  seems  to  have  helped  the  lover  of 
Madame  du  Barry,  for  he  was  soon  cured  of 
his  illness.  Work  on  the  sacred  edifice  was 
commenced  at  once,  by  a  young  architect  named 
Soufflot.  He  had  lived  several  years  at  Rome, 
and  this  was  why  he  determined  that  the  basil- 
ica which  the  king  had  commanded  should  be 
an  example  of  the  classic  art,  in  the  form  of  a 
Greek  cross,  and  topped  with  a  dome  like  that 
over  St.  Peter's.  Work  progressed  rapidly, 
and  already  the  stone  base  of  this  dome  was 
being  laid  on  the  thirty-six  columns  which  were 
to  sustain  it,  when  Soufflot  saw  the  mass  crack- 
ing and  the  edifice  was  threatening  to  tumble 
down.  Rondelet  saved  the  structure  by  sub- 
stituting for  the  plastered  and  isolated  columns 
a  heavy  massive  masonry  which  may  not  have 
been  very  graceful  to  look  on,  but  certainly 
was  quite  solid.  Suddenly  there  was  no  money, 
and  work  ceased  on  the  Basilica  of  Sainte  Gen- 
evieve, which  was  intended  to  be  a  Catholic 
Church,  for  all  at  once  great  political  changes 
occurred  throughout  France.     The  Tuileries, 


CHURCH  OF  SAINTE  GENEVIEVE.  269 


palace  of  Louis  XVI,  lodged  the  Convention ; 
the  Luxembourg,  palace  of  "  Monsieur,"  became 
a  prison  ;  the  Palais  Bourbon  was  turned  into  a 
Polytechnic;  the  Church  of  the  Petits  Peres 
was  the  Bourse ;  the  Cathedral  of  Notre  Dame 
was  the  Temple  of  the  Goddess  of  Reason ;  and 
a  transformation  of  the  Abbey  of  Sainite  Gene- 
vieve was  also  brought  about.  Its  cloistered 
buildings  were  transformed  into  a  Lycee,  the 
ancient  church  was  demolished — all  except  its 
bell  tower,  which  is  now  a  part  of  the 
Lycee  Henri  IV — and  a  street  called  Rue 
Clovis  was  constructed  through  the  square. 
The  bones  of  Sainte  Genevieve  were  burned 
on  the  Place  de  Greve  where  the  Hotel  de 
Ville  now  stands ;  the  reliquary  was  taken  to 
the  mint  and  melted;  but  the  four  statues  of 
women  which  supported  this  shrine  found 
grace  with  the  destroyers  and  are  to-day  in  the 
Louvre.  The  basilica  of  Louis  XV,  now 
empty  and  desolate,  was  awaiting  its  destiny 
when  early  one  morning  Paris  heard  of  the 
death  of  Mirabeau.  All  the  theatres  were 
closed,  the  authorities  put  on  mourning,  and 
orations  were  improvised  in  the  public  squares. 
The  Assemble  Rationale  determined  that  Mira- 
beau should  have  a  tomb  worthy  of  his  name 


270 


PARIS. 


and  reputation.  It  was  decreed  that  lie  should 
be  buried  in  the  new  church  of  Sainte  Gene- 
vieve and  that  thereafter  it  should  be  the  sepul- 
chre of  all  citizens  who  should  merit  such 
interment  of  their  country.  On  the  fronton 
this  inscription  was  engraved:  "Aux  Grands 
Hommes,  La  Patrie  Reconnaissante,"  and  the 
structure  was  called  Pantheon. 

Other  apotheoses  soon  succeeded.  The  re- 
mains of  Voltaire  were  dragged  up  out  of  their 
grave  in  the  church  of  Romilly  and  brought  to 
Paris  to  be  placed  in  the  new  temple.  In  turn, 
Beaurepaire,  an  officer  in  the  army  who  com- 
mitted suicide  to  escape  surrendering  his  forces, 
the  Deputy  Lepelletier,  assassinated  for  having 
voted  the  death  of  Louis  XVI,  the  two  heroes 
Barra  and  Vial  a,  also  Marat  and  Jean  Jacques 
Rousseau  were  buried  there. 

One  day  Mirabeau  had  exclaimed,  "  I  know 
that  it  is  only  a  short  distance  from  the  Capitol 
to  the  Tarpeian  rock."  Very  like  a  prophesy, 
that ;  for  at  the  very  moment  when  the  Con- 
ventional, who  two  months  before  had  immo- 
lated Robespierrre,  were  conducting  the  remains 
of  Marat  to  the  Pantheon,  those  of  Mirabeau 
were  being  thrown  out  of  the  Temple  to  Great 
Men.    This  act  was  termed  "  depantheonisa- 


CHANGES  IN  THE  PANTHEON. 


271 


tion  "  at  the  time  ;  the  word  was  not  more  bar- 
baric than  the  thing  itself.  But  Mirabeau's 
tomb  was  not  the  only  one  thus  despoiled,  for 
Marat's  body  was  dragged  out  in  February, 
1795,  and  buried  elsewhere. 

A  degree  of  Napoleon  I,  issued  in  1804, 
restored  the  Pantheon  to  the  Catholic  church, 
but  he  also  made  it  the  place  of  sepulchre  of 
those  in  the  army  and  navy,  or  in  civic  adminis- 
tration who  had  rendered  eminent  services  to 
the  country. 

The  downfall  of  the  Empire  brought  about 
another  change.  The  inscription  on  its  front 
was  cut  away, «  and  a  short  while  later  some 
labourers,  conducted  by  a  nobleman  of  the 
King's  chamber,  went  at  night  to  the  tombs  of 
Voltaire  and  Rousseau,  put  their  remains  in  a 
sack,  carried  them  away,  and  scattered  them 
along  the  Bievre  rivulet  hard  by. 

Louis  Philippe,  who  was  a  "  citizen  king," 
and  founder  of  the  best  of  Republics,  closed  the 
church  to  re-open  it  as  a  temple,  and  with  his 
own  hands  nailed  up  the  four  bronze  plates 
which  bore  the  names  of  the  victims  of  1830. 
When  Napoleon  III  was  well  seated  on  the 
throne  the  building  became  once  more  the 
Church  of  Sainte  Genevieve,  and  so  it  remained 


272 


PAEISo 


until  1881,  when  all  its  priests  were  turned  out, 
and  once  more  it  was  set  apart  as  a  burial-place 
for  great  men.  The  interment  of  Victor  Hugo 
in  the  Pantheon  vaults  was  a  grand  ceremony; 
but  that  of  President  Carnot,  who  had  been 
assassinated,  was  equally  impressive. 

Situated  at  the  Western  extremity  of  that 
splendid  thoroughfare  known  in  Paris  as  the 
Boulevard,1  and  facing  the  Place  de  la  Concorde 
through  the  Rue  Royale,  with  the  Chamber  of 
Deputies  in  the  near  distance  but  beyond  the 
river,  the  Church  of  the  Madeleine  is  one  of  the 
most  striking  objects  in  Paris,  and  before 
whose  iron  palings  a  great  throng  of  people 
and  vehicles  are  forever  passing.  It  is  not, 
however,  because  it  is  a  church  that  it  is  men- 
tioned now;  churches  will  find  their  place 
further  on.  In  the  twelfth  century  the  place 
where  it  stands,  as  well  as  a  portion  of  the  streets 
and  lands  surrounding  it,  were  covered  with 
fields  and  vineyards,  distant  somewhat  from  the 
capital.  About  that  time  the  Bishops  of  Paris 
established  near  the  spot  a  country  residence 
and  chapel,  which  was  called  Ville  PEveque.2 

1  As  a  matter  of  fact  this  boulevard  changes  its  name 
twelve  or  thirteen  times  between  the  Place  de  la  Bastille 
and  the  Madeleine. 

2  An  adjoining  street  still  bears  the  name  of  Eue  de  la 
Ville  de  TEveque. 


THE  CHUKCH  OF  THE  MADELEINE.  273 


Two  centuries  later,  the  erection  of  numerous 
houses  around  the  Episcopal  property  having 
made  that  suburb  somewhat  populous,  Charles 
VIII  had  the  old  chapel  pulled  down  and  a 
much  larger  place  of  worship  erected.  He 
founded  there  the  Order  of  the  Confrerie  of 
the  Madeleine,  which  gave  name  to  the  newly- 
constructed  chapel.  The  King  and  Queen 
declared  themselves  members  of  this  Brother- 
hood, and  the  Chapel  was  consecrated  as  the 
Sainte  Madeleine  de  la  Ville  T^veque. 

In  less  than  two  centuries  more  the  popula- 
tion of  the  faubourg  had  so  greatly  increased 
that  a  church  superceded  the  chapel,  Made- 
moiselle de  Montpensier  laying  the  first  stone  of 
it  in  1659.  The  increase  in  size  which  the 
capital  underwent  during  the  reigns  of  Louis 
XIV  and  Louis  XV  necessitated  the  taking  in 
of  that  faubourg,  and  then,  as  soon  as  the  Rue 
Royale  was  finished,  the  Court  and  Bishops 
beg^n  to  think  about  reconstructing  this 
Church  on  a  more  extensive  plan,  something 
that  would  be  worthy  to  figure  as  a  companion 
piece  to  the  Palais  Bourbon  and  the  Place 
Louis  XV,  both  of  which  were  completed  in 
1754.  The  first  stone  of  the  new  church  was 
laid  by  the  King  in  April,  1764,  but  the  build- 


274 


PARIS. 


ing  was  hardly  fifteen  feet  above  ground  when 
the  architect  died,  and  his  successor  at  once 
changed  all  his  plans.  If  we  may  believe  some 
contemporary  writers,  the  new  plan  was  no 
more  or  less  than  that  of  reproducing  the  Pan- 
theon of  Rome  in  Paris,  and  the  work  was 
progressing  fairly  well  when  the  Revolution 
broke  forth.  In  1793  the  unfinished  structure 
was  demolished ;  and  it  was  in  the  cemetery  of 
that  unbuilt  church  that  the  mortal  remains  of 
Louis  XVI  and  of  Marie  Antoinette  were 
buried. 

Between  1796  and  1799  several  new  projects 
were  presented  for  the  erection  on  the  site  of 
some  monument  that  would  be  worthy  of  the 
Great  Nation.  Its  destination  was  to  be  en- 
tirely changed ;  some  proposed  the  erection  of  a 
Legislative  Hall,  others  a  National  Museum, 
or  a  Public  Library,  others  still  a  Theatre  or  a 
Market  House.  The  architects  of  Paris  were 
waiting  the  decision  of  the  government,  when  a 
decree,  dated  at  Posen,  December  2,  1806, 
made  known  the  intentions  of  the  Emperor  in 
the  premises.  That  historical  decree  began 
with  an  article  worded  as  follows:  " There 
shall  be  established  on  the  site  of  the  Made- 
leine, in  our  good  city  of  Paris,  at  the  expense 


A  MONUMENT  TO  THE  GKANDE  AKMEE.  275 


of  the  Crown,  a  monument  dedicated  to  the 
army  and  it  shall  have  inscribed  on  its  front : 
"  The  Emperor  Napoleon  to  the  Soldiers  of 
the  Grande  Armee."  The  rest  of  the  decree 
provided  for  the  erection  of  tablets  in  the  in- 
terior of  the  monument  inscribed  with  the 
names  of  all  the  men,  arranged  by  army  corps 
and  by  regiments,  who  had  taken  part  in  the 
battles  of  Ulm,  Austerlitz  and  Jena,  and  of 
tablets  of  massive  gold  inscribed  with  the 
names  of  all  who  had  died  on  the  battlefield ; 
while  on  tablets  of  silver  were  to  be  inscribed 
the  names  of  all  the  soldiers  who  had  been  in 
the  great  army.  Due  provision  was  made  for 
the  further  decoration  of  the  monument  with 
statues,  bas-reliefs,  etc.,  and  for  annual  celebra- 
tions of  the  anniversaries  of  the  three  battles 
mentioned,  and  on  which  occasions,  so  it  was 
expressly  written  in  the  decree,  it  was  forbid- 
den to  make  any  mention  whatever  of  the 
Emperor. 

Out  of  ninety-two  plans  presented,  four 
were  selected  and  sent  to  Napoleon  I,  who  was 
then  at  Tilsitt.  The  Institute,  which  had  been 
directed  by  the  decree  to  pass  on  the  plans 
presented,  had  in  its  report  selected  that  of  M. 
Beaumont  as  being  most  in  accordance  with 


27G 


PARIS. 


the  imposed  conditions.  The  Emperor  thought 
differently,  however,  and  gave  preference  to 
the  plans  of  Pierre  Vignon,  who  was  ordered 
to  begin  work  at  once.  The  work  was  going 
on  well  enough  when  it  was  interrupted  again 
by  another  political  event,  the  abdication  of 
Napoleon  and  the  return  of  the  Bourbons. 
Again  the  monument  changed  its  destination, 
being  now  restored  to  the  Roman  Catholic  re- 
ligion. M.  Vignon  continued  the  work  with 
this  latter  end  in  view  until  his  death  in  1828, 
when  the  government  appointed  M.  Huet, 
architect,  and  he  completed  the  structure  in 
1843. 

The  Church  of  the  Madeleine  presents  the 
shape  of  a  large  parallelogram  surrounded  by 
Corinthian  columns  sixty- two  feet  high.  Its  im- 
posing appearance  unites,  in  a  very  happy  manner, 
elegance  to  richness  and  grace  to  majesty.  The 
proportions  are  light  and  harmonious,  and  the 
ensemble  is  very  striking.  The  anterior  and 
posterior  fronts  have  each  eight  columns ;  along 
the  side  fronts  are  eighteen  columns  on  either 
side.  The  fluting  of  these  massive  columns  pro- 
duce a  fine  effect,  owing  to  the  fact  that  it  is  less 
deep  in  the  lower  part  of  the  column  than  it  is 
towards  and  at  the  top.    The  carving  of  the 


LIKE  UNTO  A  GREEK  TEMPLE.  277 


Corinthian  capitals  is  of  a  perfection  that  leaves 
nothing  to  be  desired.  The  floor  of  the  church 
is  reached  by  a  grand  flight  of  stone  steps 
divided  into  two  parts  by  a  landing,  and  these 
are  separated  from  the  street  by  a  handsome 
iron  railing. 

Exteriorly  the  building  is  the  exact  repro- 
duction of  a  Greek  temple,  more  than  one  in 
fact,  for  it  has  two  frontons,  two  prostyles,  two 
emmanchements.  There  are  no  windows.  The 
columns  are  Corinthian  and  grooved,  but  they 
are  not  monoliths,  as  they  perhaps  would  have 
been  in  ancient  Greece.  Moreover  the  Greeks 
always  posed  an  architrave  of  but  a  single  stone ; 
whereas,  the  Madeleine  architraves  are  formed 
of  several  pieces  assembled.  The  comparison 
between  the  imitation  and  the  real  could  be 
continued  if  it  were  necessary,  but,  as  has  been 
already  said,  it  is  a  magnificent  building.  It  is 
a  Temple  within  double  rows  of  columns,  but 
when  you  enter  the  sella  no  colossal  statue  of 
Jupiter  Olympus,  seated  in  all  his  majesty  on  a 
pedestal  of  white  marble,  will  be  visible;  for 
the  Greek  Temple  of  the  Madeleine  is  to-day  a 
place  of  worship  for  the  Christian  religion  and 
not  a  place  of  Pagan  idolatry. 

If  it  was  not  possible  to  make  a  House  of  God 


278 


PARIS. 


out  of  a  heathen  temple,  a  church  could  be  put 
inside  of  one,  and  this  was  done.  This  is  why 
the  interior  of  the  Madeleine  resembles  in  no 
way  whatever  its  exterior,  either  in  style  nor 
dispositioiio  The  large  room  within  the  walls 
and  columns  is  covered,  so  to  speak,  by  three 
domes  which  are  invisible  from  the  outside. 
These  pierced  openings  in  the  ceiling  are  covered 
with  glass  through  which  some  daylight  sifts, 
but  never  enough  of  it  to  do  away  with  gas  or 
electricity.  Half  the  church  is  constantly  in 
obscurity,  and  yet  there  are  many  splendid 
paintings  and  statuary  in  the  place.  Moreover 
there  are  columns  and  arcades,  frontons,  cor- 
nices, gilding,  much  display  of  gold ;  in  fact,  an 
unheard  of  luxury  in  decorative  work.  All  this 
resembles  nothing:  neither  a  church  nor  a 
temple, — neither  a  house  of  prayer  nor  an  art 
gallery, — neither  a  place  where  one  may  worship 
the  one  and  Ever-living  God,  nor  a  templum  to 
all  the  gods. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


Good  works  by  the  First  Eepublic — Establishment  of 
different  Institutions — Public  education  greatly 
improved — The  Conservatoire  des  Arts  et  Metiers 
— Its  location  in  an  ancient  Abbey — Church  of 
Saint  Martin  without  the  walls — Building  of  a 
Monastery  by  Henri  I — Its  change  to  a  Priory  and 
its  present  condition — Free  instruction  to  all  work- 
men— Eleven  Chairs  established — Valuable  col- 
lections at  this  Conservatory — Everything  excel- 
lently arranged — The  Paris  Nautes  of  antiquity — 
Beginnings  of  the  Municipality — Eighty  members 
of  the  Common  Council — The  President  and  Syn- 
dic of  the  Board — Public  and  private  sessions — 
Annual  expenses  of  the  Capital — State  Control 
over  appropriations — Police  force  and  how  gov- 
erned. 

Michelet  in  his  history  says  that  the  French 
Revolution  has  for  its  only  monument  the 
Champ  de  Mars — "  le  vide  "  (vacant  space) — as 
he  puts  it.  The  observation  is  hardly  correct, 
however.  It  is  true  that  the  Revolution  had 
something  else  to  do  than  build  houses  at  a 
time  when  all  the  kings  of  Europe  had  ranged 


280 


PARIS. 


themselves  against  the  French,  when  the  Ven- 
deans  uprose  at  the  appeal  of  priests  and  nobil- 
ity, when  the  whole  country  was  in  danger. 
There  were  cannon  to  be  cast,  pikes  to  be 
forged,  powder  to  be  made,  muskets  to  be  put 
together,  the  dead  to  be  buried,  the  wounded 
cared  for — there  was  no  time  or  money  with 
which  to  erect  monuments.  And  yet,  speak- 
ing now  of  Paris  alone,  no  period  in  the  history 
of  the  great  capital  has  left  so  many  useful, 
valuable  and  sensible  monuments  as  were  raised 
in  the  city  by  those  first  Republicans.  The 
Louvre  galleries  of  art  were  founded  in  1793, 
and  that  same  year  saw  the  Museum  of  History 
and  the  Jardin  des  Plantes  greatly  increased  in 
size  and  improved  in  every  way.  It  was  in 
1793  that  the  Conservatoire  des  Arts  et  Metiers 
was  established,  as  was  also  the  ]£cole  des 
Mines.  In  1794  the  Republic  gave  to  Paris 
the  ]£cole  Militaire  on  the  south  side  of  the 
Champs  de  Mars,  and  the  more  famous  l^cole 
Polytechnique. 

Then  in  1895,  the  National  Archives,  the 
Conservatoire  de  Musique,  the  ^cole  Normale, 
the  Bureau  of  Longitude  at  the  Observatory, 
and  the  Institute  were  established.  During  a 
thousand  years  kings  and  church  had  not  done 


FROM  MONASTERY  TO  PRIORY.  281 


half  so  niucli  as  all  this  to  instruct  the  masses  ; 
for  every  one  of  the  institutions  just  mentioned 
as  founded  within  five  years  were,  and  still  are, 
places  of  education.  And,  another  thing  in 
favour  of  the  much-abused  Revolution,  public 
instruction,  from  the  primary  school  up  to  the 
Institute  of  France,  was  its  work ;  and  no  greater 
monument  than  that  can  be  found  elsewhere,  or 
in  any  epoch. 

It  was  but  now  remarked  that  these  institu- 
tions are  still  in  existence,  and  it  may  be  added 
that  their  reputation  for  excellence  is  famed 
throughout  the  world.  The  Conservatoire  des 
Arts  et  Metiers  still  occupies  the  same  buildings 
in  which  it  was  originally  located  when  the 
church  of  the  old  Abbey  of  Saint  Martin  des 
Champs  (twelfth  century)  became  a  room  for 
machinery,  and  the  magnificent  refectory  of 
thirteenth  century  monks  was  transformed  into 
a  library  for  working  men.  The  story  of  that 
ancient  site  may  be  told  before  we  speak  of  the 
Conservatory  itself. 

North  of  the  original  Parisian  city,  but  not 
very  far  from  its  walls,  stood  a  sacred  edifice 
erected  in  the  sixth  century  and  bearing  the 
name  of  Church  of  Saint  Martin.  Thereabouts 
a  faubourg  sprang  up,  to  be  incorporated  in 


282 


PARIS. 


course  of  time  into  the  capital,  but  before  that 
the  Normans  had  destroyed  the  church.  When 
the  country  and  the  city  had  recovered  some- 
what from  terrible  invasions,  the  city  wall  was 
extended  northward,  and  one  of  the  new  gates 
was  called  Porte  Saint  Martin.  The  old  church, 
was  not  rebuilt  at  once,  however,  but  in  1060 
King  Henri  I  founded  a  monastery  out  in  that 
direction,  and  it  became  celebrated  under  the 
name  of  Saint  Martin  des  Champs. 

In  1356,  following  the  disastrous  Battle  of 
Poitiers,  and  because  of  enemies  still  being  in 
the  kingdom,  fear  was  entertained  for  the 
safety  of  the  capital,  therefore  the  walls  were 
again  increased  and  strengthened.  .  On  part  of 
the  land  thus  taken  in  stood  four  large  wind- 
mills; these  were  still  in  existence  in  1620,  but 
their  site  is  now  occupied  by  the  Theatre  de 
la  Porte  Saint  Martin. 

In  the  monastery  which  he  built,  Henri  I 
placed  thirteen  Canons  under  the  government  of 
a  Prior,  and  he  gave  them  many  gifts,  which 
were  largely  increased  by  his  son  Philippe  I.  In 
1079  Saint  Martin  passed  from  the  hands  of 
these  Canons  into  those  of  the  Monks  of  Cluny, 
and  the  Abbey  became  a  simple  Priory,  although 
it  lost  none  of  its  riches  or  importance  on  that 


A  GREAT  INSTITUTION. 


283 


account.  Indeed  it  became  so  great  a  place 
that  to  be  Prior  of  it  was  a  position  eagerly 
sought  for,  and  it  was  nearly  always  occupied 
by  some  remarkable  personage.  Among  the 
number  was  the  Cardinal-Minister,  Duke  de 
Richelieu,  who  took  the  office  in  November, 
1653,  and  held  it  to  the  end  of  his  life. 

I  must  pass  over  the  incidents  and  events  of 
that  famous  Priory,  however,  to  come  at  once  to 
its  present  condition.  In  1793  a  Committee  of 
Public  Instruction  proposed  to  the  National  Con- 
vention the  creation  of  a  Conservatoire  des  Arts 
et  Metiers ;  this  proposition  was  adopted,  and 
in  May  1798,  the  old  Priory  of  Saint  Martin, 
which  had  been  suppressed  in  1791,  was  set 
apart  for  that  institution.  No  one  in  going 
through  the  buildings  can  fail  to  be  struck  with 
the  proportions  of  the  chapel,  the  beautiful 
carving  of  the  doorway,  and  the  refectory, 
with  its  fine  roof ;  but  it  is  with  the  Institution 
itself,  rather  than  with  the  building  in  which  it 
happens  to  be  located,  that  we  are  at  present 
concerned. 

It  is  commonly  believed  that  Descartes  was 
the  first  who  conceived  the  idea  of  giving  free 
instruction  to  workmen,  who  were  then  the 
persons  most  interested  in  the  progress  of  phys- 


284 


PARIS. 


ical  science,  on  their  work.  His  idea  was  to 
secure  a  building  in  which  the  mechanical  instru- 
ments used  in  various  trades  could  be  grouped 
together,  and  that  a  competent  Professor  should 
be  appointed  to  each  group,  whose  business 
would  be  to  give  information  to  the  workmen 
who  sought  it  as  to  the  principles  on  which 
their  daily  labour  was  founded.  This  idea  was 
not  put  into  execution,  and  although  it  is  spoken 
of  as  the  first  recorded  idea  of  the  kind,  it  is  by 
no  means  apparent  that  it  had  any  real  connec- 
tion with  what  was  subsequently  done. 

The  Academy  of  Sciences  had  formed  a 
collection  of  models  of  machines  which  was 
lodged  at  the  Louvre.  Quite  independently 
of  it,  Vaucanson  began  about  1775  to  form  a 
collection  of  machines,  instruments,  and  tools, 
especially  for  the  instruction  of  workmen.  He 
was  a  skilled  mechanician  himself,  and  many 
of  his  ingenious  contrivances  were  treasured  as 
curiosities  by  crowned  heads.  When  he  died 
it  was  found  he  had  bequeathed  the  collection 
which  he  had  formed  to  the  government.  The 
legacy  was  accepted,  the  Hotel  de  Mortagne 
was  acquired  for  its  reception,  a  keeper  was 
appointed,  and  a  decision  made  that  a  model  of 
all   future   inventions  which   should  receive 


FREE  INSTRUCTION  FOR  WORKMEN.  285 


national  recompense  should  be  added  to  the 
collection.  Between  1785  and  1792  there  were 
by  this  decision  as  many  as  five  hundred  new 
objects  added.  It  was  these  things  that  really 
led  to  the  founding  of  the  Conservatoire  des 
Arts  et  Metiers. 

It  was  described  at  the  time  as  a  public  depot 
for  machines,  models,  tools,  designs,  descriptions, 
and  books  of  all  arts  and  trades,  whose  construc- 
tion and  use  should  be  explained  by  three  dem- 
onstrators attached  to  the  establishment.  All 
the  collections  belonging  to  the  State  were  to 
be  included ;  and  even  while  there  was  still  hesi- 
tation as  to  the  final  site,  many  additions  were 
made.  The  Committee  under  whose  direction 
the  habitation — its  present  one — was  chosen  put 
prominently  forward  the  fact  that  the  aim  in 
view  was  the  instruction  of  workmen,  and  they 
expressed  their  opinion  that  it  would  be  better 
to  do  this  by  showing  them  things  than  by 
merely  talking  to  them.  Demonstrators  were 
appointed  whose  business  it  was  to  give  informa- 
tion to  those  seeking  it,  and  in  a  short  while  the 
Conservatoire  was  being  used  for  experiments 
to  further  the  progress  of  agriculture  and  indus- 
tries. But  the  interest  taken  was  short  lived, 
and  a  period  of  decline  set  in  about  1812. 


286 


PAEIS. 


Under  the  First  Empire  efforts  were  made  to 
keep  up  the  interest  in  the  collections,  and  some 
splendid  additions  in  physical  apparatus  and 
horology  were  made.  The  managing  body  was 
rearranged  in  1817,  when,  besides  appointing  a 
sub-director,  a  Conseil  was  appointed  which 
consisted  partly  of  the  authorities  of  the  Con- 
servatoire and  partly  of  men  actually  engaged 
in  commerce,  whose  duty  was  to  help  the 
Administration  with  advice.  Except  from  1839 
to  1853  this  principle  has  been  adhered  to, 
although  variations  in  number  have  occurred. 
But  it  was  the  change  made  in  1819  that  gave 
fresh  life  to  the  Conservatoire,  and  gave  birth 
to  the  present  system.  On  the  25th  of  Novem- 
ber of  that  year  it  was  decided  that  the  Insti- 
tution should  be  made  not  only  a  place  where 
apparatus  and  tools  might  be  seen  and  demon- 
strated, but  where  courses  of  instruction  should 
be  given. 

At  first  three  chairs  were  founded — Mechan- 
ics, Chemistry,  and  Industrial  Economy  applied 
to  the  Arts,  which  last  seems  to  have  meant  the 
principles  of  politics  applied  to  industrial  pur- 
suits. At  the  same  time  the  Conseil,  a  most 
important  body,  underwent  modifications.  It 
was  divided  into  permanent  and  temporary 


ELEVEN  CHAIES  FOUNDED.  287 


members  :  the  permanent  were  the  Director, 
sub-Director,  and  Professors,  etc.,  of  the  Con- 
servatoire ;  the  temporary  were  twelve  in 
number,  six  of  them  members  of  the  Academy, 
the  others  being  manufacturers  and  agricultu- 
ralists, chosen  for  three  years,  but  eligible  for 
re-election.  In  1829  a  fourth  chair  was  added  : 
Physics  applied  to  the  Arts. 

No  further  change  was  made  until  1839, 
when  six  more  chairs  were  created  and  the 
Conseil  was  made  to  consist  of  the  Professors 
alone,  one  of  the  number  being  placed  at  the 
head,  with  the  title  of  Professeur-Administra- 
teur.  The  office  of  demonstrator  was  abol- 
ished, and  the  best  energies  of  the  Professors 
were  given  to  teaching. 

In  1849  another  chair,  that  of  Agricultural 
Chemistry  and  Chemical  Analysis,  was  added, 
bringing  the  number  up  to  eleven.  Then  in 
1853  a  Conseil  de  Perfectionnement,  to  consist 
of  a  Director,  the  Professors,  and  a  number  (not 
to  exceed  the  number  of  the  Professors)  of 
members  of  learned  societies  and  those  engaged 
in  commerce,  was  created. 

These  members  are  appointed  by  the  Min- 
ister of  Agriculture  and  Commerce,  the  position 
is  without  a  stipend,  and  the  Conseil  has  the 


288 


PAKIS. 


entire  control  of  the  Conservatoire  under  that 
Ministry.  When  a  vacancy  in  a  professorship 
occurs,  the  Conseil  selects  three  names  and  sub- 
mits them  to  the  Minister,  who  makes  the 
appointment;  but  beyond  this  the  Conseil  is 
left  free  to  carry  out  its  arrangements  without 
any  State  interference. 

Here,  then,  is  what  the  Conservatoire  des 
Arts  et  Metiers  essentially  is — a  National  Insti- 
tution which  has  developed  into  its  present  con- 
dition during  an  existence  of  more  than  one 
hundred  years,  supported  by  State  aid ;  its  aim 
all  throughout,  whether  by  demonstrations  or 
by  lectures,  being  the  instruction  of  those  who 
wish  to  have  an  intelligent  appreciation  of  the 
applications  of  scientific  principles  to  general 
industry.  Everything  is  subservient  to  this 
instruction.  There  are  three  lecture  amphi- 
theatres. The  largest  will  hold  seven  hundred, 
the  second  three  hundred,  and  the  smallest  two 
hundred  persons.  At  the  back  of  the  largest  is  a 
general  laboratory, where  the  apparatus  required 
for  the  lectures  is  prepared  ;  and  in  cases  where 
preparation  at  the  last  minute  is  needed  it  is 
handed  in  through  an  opening  just  when  it  is 
wanted.  All  apparatus  is  furnished  by  the 
Conservatoire  and  is  the  exclusive  property  of 


A  VALUABLE  COLLECTION.  289 


the  Institution.  "With  the  exception  of  a  few 
reserved  tickets  for  each  Professor  and  which 
are  distributed  among  special  friends,  all  these 
lectures  are  free  to  everybody,  without  any  re- 
striction as  to  age,  sex,  or  social  position,  and 
whether  native  or  foreign  born.  There  are  no 
lectures  on  Sundays,  but  on  other  days  there  are 
four  or  five  of  them  each  evening,  and  so  far  as 
possible  each  lecture  is  made  complete  in  itself. 

As  regards  the  collections  at  the  Conserva- 
toire, in  addition  to  being  used  as  lecture  illus- 
trations, they  are  open  at  certain  times  of  the" 
week,  sometimes  free,  sometimes  at  the  charge 
of  one  franc,  for  public  inspection.  There  are, 
however,  no  arrangements  for  lighting  the  gal- 
leries, hence  they  are  never  open  in  the  evening. 
There  are  altogether  about  fifteen  thousand 
objects,  some  of  which  are  relics  of  the  time  of 
Vaucanson.  Additions  are  being  constantly 
made  to  the  collection,  but  nothing  is  asked  for 
unless  it  can  be  utilised  for  teaching  The 
munificence  of  private  individuals  and  commer- 
cial firms  supplies  many  objects  free  of  cost,  but 
no  offer  is  accepted  unless  one  of  the  Professors 
really  wants  it  for  teaching  purposes. 

Those  who  have  carefully  gone  through  the 
galleries  are  invariably  struck  by  the  excellence 


290 


PARIS, 


of  the  arrangements,  and  the  clearness  with 
which  everything  is  displayed.  A  staff  of  sixty 
does  the  whole  of  the  work,  and  the  annual 
cost  to  the  State  is  about  sixty  thousand  dollars. 

Although  in  the  midst  of  "  Terror,"  and  of 
civil  and  foreign  wars,  although  threatened  by 
its  internal  as  well  as  by  its  external  enemies, 
the  Revolution  also  gave  to  Paris  the  election 
of  its  own  Municipality.  Among  the  historical 
monuments  to-day  in  the  Palais  de  Thermes  is 
one  which  workmen,  labouring  in  a  vault  in  a 
choir  of  Notre  Dame,  had  the  good  luck  to  dig 
up  in  1710.  On  one  of  these  stones  is  this  in- 
scription, in  Latin :  "  During  the  reign  of 
Tiberius  the  Nautes  Parisiens  erected  this  altar, 
at  the  expense  of  the  Corporation,  to  the  very 
good  and  the  very  great  Jupiter. "  That  Nautes, 
powerful  enough  thirty  years  after  the  birth  of 
Jesus  Christ  to  raise  a  temple  dedicated  to 
Jupiter  at  the  Western  extremity  of  the  little 
island,  was  the  germ  of  the  first  Municipality  of 
Paris. 

I  have  already  told  of  the  creation  of  the 
Parlouer  aux  Bourgeois  and  of  the  rise  of  the 
Prevot  des  Marchands  ;  I  have  now  to  mention 
the  existence  of  a  City  Council  composed  of 
twenty*four  preudoumes  or  prud'hommes  who 


THE  MUNICIPALITY  UNDER  LOUIS  XIV.  291 


were  paid  for  their  services.  After  the  shame- 
ful rout  of  Poitiers  and  the  terrible  defeat  of 
King  John,  Prevot  Etienne  Marcel  not  only 
installed  himself  and  echevins  in  the  Maison 
aux  Piliers  on  the  Place  de  Greve,  but  he 
obliged  the  inhabitants  to  man  the  walls,  and 
to  police  the  eight  quartiers  into  which  Paris 
was  then  divided. 

Charles  V  left  no  real  authority  with  any 
one  but  the  Prevot,  and,  after  the  revolt  of  the 
Maillotins,  he  abolished  that  office  during 
twenty-nine  years.  It  had  hardly  been  re- 
established when  the  English  occupied  Paris. 
After  the  Fronde,  and  the  active,  energetic  part 
taken  by  the  Parisian  Municipality,  the  man 
who  exclaimed  "  L'  Etat  c'est  moi !  "  was  not 
for  leaving  the  capital,  its  organisation,  and  its 
franchises  to  any  other  authority  than  his  own. 

It  is  true  Louis  XIV  allowed  the  city  an  ap- 
pearance of  electing  the  prevots,  the  echevins 
and  the  quarteniers,  but  the  procureurs-syndics 
and  other  officers  were  compelled  to  buy  their 
places.  Moreover,  that  King  divided  the  ad- 
ministration of  Paris  up  into  Parliament, 
Bureau  of  Finances,  Board  of  Public  Works, 
Lieutenant-General  of  Police,  and  the  City 
Bureau. 


292 


PARIS. 


Finally,  the  degraded  institution  of  the 
echSvinage  disappeared  the  day  that  the  Bas- 
tille was  taken ;  and  when  Bailly  was  pro- 
claimed Mayor  by  the  assembly  of  electors,  they 
cried  aloud,  repeating  it  a  hundred  times: 
"  Plus  de  Prevot  de  marchands !  un  Maire  de 
Paris  !    Oui,  oui,  un  Maire  de  Paris  !  " 

The  law  of  May,  1790,  created  an  administra- 
tion composed  of  a  Mayor,  sixteen  aids,  thirty 
Councillors,  ninety-six  Notables,  a  Procureur- 
General  of  the  Commune,  and  two  substitutes. 
All  the  members  of  this  Municipality  were 
named  by  active  citizens  of  Paris,  from  forty- 
eight  districts,  and  their  organisation  lasted 
until  August  10,  1790.  That  day  the  "  Com- 
missaires  des  Sections"  to  the  number  of  186, 
went  to  the  Hotel  de  Ville  and  suspended  the 
Municipality.  The  legislative  Assembly 
ordered  that  the  forty-eight  districts  should 
each  name  a  member  to  take  charge  of  things, 
and  thus  was  born  the  Paris  Commune.  In 
turn  this  arrangement  was  done  away  with 
after  the  ninth  Thermidor,  when  Paris  was  man- 
aged by  National  Commissions  appointed  by 
the  Convention. 

The  Directoire  replaced  these  with  a  bureau 
of  seven  administrators,  but  they  had  soon  to 


THE  ALDERMANIC  BOARD. 


293 


give  way  for  two  Prefets,  one  for  the  Depart- 
ment of  the  Seine,  the  other  for  the  Police ;  and 
with  the  coming  in  of  these  two  functionaries 
disappeared  the  last  vestiges  of  the  municipal 
regime.  The  arrangement  continued  through 
the  Empire  and  the  Restoration,  until  the  Rev- 
olution of  1830  in  fact ;  but  after  that,  a  Muni- 
cipal Council  of  thirty-six  members  was  elected. 

During  the  S-econd  Empire  all  the  members 
of  the  Municipal  Commission  were  appointed 
by  the  State;  but  while  the  Commune  was  in 
power  a  Mayor  and  two  aids  administered  the 
city  affairs,  and  there  was  no  .  thought  of  a 
Conseil  Municipal.  The  Commune  crushed,  a 
Municipal  law  was  voted  by  the  National 
Assembly  at  Versailles,  and  it  is  that  law  which 
governs  the  city  to-day. 

The  Conseil  Municipale  of  Paris  is  composed 
of  eighty  members,  elected  in  as  many  quar- 
tiers. The  capital  is  divided  into  twenty  ar- 
rondissements  or  wards,  and  each  of  these  is 
subdivided  into  four  quartiers  or  sections, 
bearing  not  numbers,  but  names.  Thus,  in  the 
eighth  arrondissement,  and  known  generally  as 
that  of  the  ^lysees,  the  names  of  these  four 
quartiers  are :  Champs  iDlysees,  Faubourg 
du  Roule,  Madeleine,  and  Europe;  thus,  in 


294 


PARIS. 


the  ninth  arrondissement,  that  of  the  Opera, 
the  qnartiers  are :  Saint  Greorges,  Chaussee 
d'Antin,  Montmartre  and  Rochechouart.  It  is 
not  necessary  to  mention  more  names  to  make 
the  thing  understood,  and  we  will  proceed  with 
the  plan  of  organisation.  Unlike  in  the  prov- 
inces— there  are  some  thirty-six  thousand  com- 
munes in  the  French  Republic,  and  each  of 
these  has  its  Mayor  and  Board  of  Aldermen — 
where  the  Councillors  are  elected  for  a  term  of 
four  years,  the  Municipal  Councillors  of  Paris 
are  chosen  for  only  three  years,  one  from  each 
quartier,  and.no  matter  how  many  inhabitants 
there  may  be  in  the  sub-sections. 

By  reason  of  their  election  these  men  have 
also  the  right  to  sit  as  members  of  the  Conseil- 
General  of  the  Department  of  the  Seine,  which 
is  equivalent  to  making  Aldermen  co-workers 
with  County  Commissioners,  where  there  are 
such  officials.  When  the  ediles  are  chosen 
they  meet  at  the  H6tel  de  Ville,  and  without 
being  obliged  to  pass  upon  the  validity  of  their 
own  election,  they  proceed  to  elect  their  officers 
and  commissions,  that  is  to  say,  Committees. 
The  law  prescribes  that  the  "  Bureau,"  or  board 
of  officers,  shall  be  a  President,  two  Vice-Presi- 
dents and   four   Secretaries.    Precedent  has 


PRESIDENT  AND  SYNDIC.  295 


added  a  Syndic,  and  the  President  and  Syndic 
are  the  two  principal  persons  of  the  Common 
Council,  but  the  former  office  is  of  the  most  im- 
portance. 

In  fact,  the  function  of  President  of  the 
Paris  Conseil  Municipale  is  a  very  enviable  posi- 
tion. It  furnishes  the  titulary  with  a  splen- 
did office  in  the  Hotel  de  Ville — the  most 
magnificent  city  hall  in  the  world ;  he  receives 
much  more  compensation,  or  salary,  than  his 
colleagues,  being  paid  four  thousand  dollars  an- 
nually; and  the  city  gratuitously  puts  at  his 
disposal  a  carriage  and  pair,  with  coachman, 
while  he  holds  the  office.  Moreover,  he  is 
furnished  with  a  private  secretary  to  aid  him 
in  his  work;  and  his  door  is  guarded  by  "  huis- 
siers,"  or  ushers  in  livery,  with  emblematic 
chains  around  their  necks,  who  precede  him 
when  he  marches  from  his  office  to  the  Council 
Chamber. 

The  Syndic  regulates  all  the  expenditures 
of  the  Council,  which  include  a  monthly 
allowance  of  one  hundred  dollars  accorded  to 
each  Alderman  to  cover  the  expenses  incurred 
by  him  in  the  performance  of  his  official  duties. 
The  Syndic  also  has  an  office  furnished  him ; 
but  it  is  not  so  fine  as  that  of  the  President  of 


296 


PAEIS. 


the  Council,  and  lie  lias  a  clerk  instead  of  a 
secretary.  He  organises  all  fetes,  banquets, 
or  receptions  given  by  the  Municipality,  and 
he  is  the  much  sought  after  dispensator  of  in- 
vitations to  the  two  balls  given  annually  in  the 
magnificent  salons  of  the  City  Hall.  The  Syn- 
dic is  a  busy,  hard-working  official,  but  he  is 
not  paid  any  more  than  his  colleagues,  although 
he  is  furnished  with  a  carriage  and  one  horse, 
with  driver. 

For  all  important  discussions  in  the  Council 
Chamber  the  President  arranges  the  list  of 
those  who  will  be  permitted  to  "take  the 
floor  "  ;  and  as,  like  many  other  parliamentary 
bodies,  the  Paris  Board  of  Aldermen  is  not 
over-patient,  there  is  a  scramble  to  have  one's 
name  at  the  top,  or  near  the  top,  of  the  list. 
It  is  customary  to  keep  the  President  in  office 
for  one  year,  and  he  is  eligible  to  re-election. 

Ordinarily,  three  public  sessions  are  held 
every  week,  on  Mondays,  Wednesdays,  and 
Fridays,  from  three  to  seven  o'clock,  but  there 
is  not  much  room  reserved  for  spectators.  A 
member  of  the  Municipal  Council  addresses 
the  house,  not  from  his  seat,  as  in  Vienna, 
Berlin,  London,  etc.,  but  from  a  "tribune," 
precisely  as  is  done  in  the  Chamber  of  Deputies. 


SIX  STANDING  COMMITTEES.  297 


All  speeches,  be  they  long  or  short,  all  motions, 
etc.,  are  printed  in  the  Bulletin  Municipal 
Officiel. 

In  addition  to  these  public  sessions,  the  num- 
ber of  which  is  regulated  by  law,  and  may  not 
exceed  one  hundred  and  forty  annually,  there 
are  also  special  sessions  when  the  Councillors 
sit  in  Committee  of  the  Whole,  and  to  which 
outsiders  are  not  admitted.  Now  the  members 
speak  from  their  seats,  and  now  the  State  is  not 
represented,  as  it  is  at  the  regular  sessions, 
either  by  the  Prefet  de  la  Seine  or  the  PrefSt 
de  la  Police,  sometimes  by  both.  This  is 
because  Paris  is  the  capital  of  the  Repub- 
lic, and  the  State  has  a  certain  control  over 
some  of  the  deliberations  and  acts  of  the 
Council. 

Without  counting  this  Committee  of  the 
Whole,  the  Municipal  Council  of  Paris  is  di- 
vided, by  election,  into  six  large  Standing 
Committees — not  to  mention  several  small  sub- 
commissions — each  composed  of  sixteen  mem- 
bers. The  six  are  as  follows :  (1)  Finances, 
Concessions,  and  Monopolies,  Disputable  Ques- 
tions; (2)  General  Administration,  Mairies 
(there  is  a  Mayor  for  each  arrondissement), 
Markets,  Police ;    (2)    Public  Ways,  Prome- 


298 


PARIS, 


nades,  Lighting;  (4)  Education,  Fine  Arts; 
(5)  Public  Assistance,  Pawnbroking ;  (6)  Water, 
Sewers,  Sanitary,  etc.  The  reports  of  Commit- 
tees are  all  printed,  and  some  of  these  are  very 
valuable  documents. 

Paris  is  a  city  which  has  an  area  of  only  twenty 
thousand  acres  ;  still,  it  has  about  2,600,000 
inhabitants.  If  the  area  covered  by  the  River 
Seine,  the  streets,  squares,  gardens,  parks,  ceme- 
teries and  other  unbuilt-on  surface  be  de- 
ducted, it  will  be  found  that  these  people  live 
on  not  more  than  13,500  acres.  This  shows 
that  Paris  is  the  most  densely  populated  city 
on  the  Continent ;  it  contains  over  one  hundred 
persons  to  the  acre,  while  Berlin  has  only  ninety, 
and  Vienna  but  fifty-five.  There  are  hardly 
more  than  88,500  houses  in  Paris,  but,  as 
most  of  these  are  what  we  call  "  flats,"  they 
contain  more  than  a  million  lodgings  or  apart- 
ments. The  yearly  rental  derived  from  them 
is  $175,000,000. 

The  standing  debt  of  the  city  is  quite  $400,- 
000,000,  and  the  largest  item  of  the  annual 
appropriations  which  the  Aldermen  have  to 
raise  annually  is  the  interest  on  this  city  debt — 
a  matter  of  something  like  $22,000,000.  The 
other  largest  expenses  are  :  Public  Instruction, 


SOUKCES  OF  REVENUE.  299 


$8,000,000 ;  streets  (paving,  repairing,  cleaning, 
etc.),  $5,500,000;  police,  $5,400,000;  public 
assistance,  $5,400,000  ;  sewers,  $2,400,000 ;  fire- 
men,  $1,600,000,  apprentice  schools,  $1,400,- 
000;  public  libraries,  $1,000,000;  lighting, 
$1,500,000,  etc.  It  takes  about  $65,000,000 
annually  to  meet  all  the  city's  requirements. 

The  most  important  item  in  the  ordinary  re- 
ceipts comes  from  the  octroi.  This  is  a  tariff 
or  duty  charged  on  articles  which  enter  Paris ; 
that  is  to  say,  on  all  portable  liquids,  food, 
fuel,  forage,  and  building  materials.  This 
source  yields  about  $32,000,000  on  an  average. 
The  other  principal  sources  of  revenue  are  the 
tax  on  dogs,  on  bicycles,  horses,  carriages,  etc., 
$6,650,000;  market  houses  and  public  market- 
places, $2,000,000;  slaughter  houses,  $700,000 ; 
wine  warehouses,  $700,000;  cemeteries,  $500- 
000  ;  public  carriages,  $1,200,000  ;  divers  con- 
tributions for  using  the  streets,  architecture, 
paving,  lighting  private  grounds,  etc.,  $1,000,- 
000 ;  State  assistance  in  keeping  up  and  clean- 
ing pavements,  $800,000;  tax  for  sweeping 
sidewalks,  $600,000 ;  State  contribution  toward 
support  of  police,  $1,800,000;  from  the  Gas 
Company,  $3,800,000;  water  tax,  $2,600,000, 
etc. 


300 


PARIS. 


Every  year  the  Paris  Municipal  Council 
votes  an  estimate  of  the  receipts,  and  makes 
appropriations  to  meet  the  probable  expenses 
of  the  following  year,  and  this  is  called  the 
Budget.  But,  like  some  other  acts  of  the 
Council,  this  budget  must  be  approved  by 
the  Government  before  it  can  go  into  efFect. 
Usually  in  November  or  December  the  Council 
votes  what  is  called  the  primitive  budget,  and 
in  May,  when  the  accounts  for  the  preceding 
year  are  closed,  the  supplemental  budget  is 
voted,  and  this  introduces  whatever  changes 
may  be  found  necessary  in  the  other  one. 

In  1900  the  Budget  of  France  was  nearly 
$700,000,000,  and  that  of  the  capital  was  nearly 
$65,000,000.  On  the  basis  of  five  per  cent, 
which  is  believed  to  be  the  average  yield  of 
real  estate  investments  in  Paris,  the  built  up 
represents  a  total  value  of  about  $3,400,000,000. 
This  does  not  include  public  buildings,  churches, 
monuments  and  other  structures  which  have  no 
rental  value. 

From  the  very  fact  that  it  is  the  capital  of 
France,  Paris  has  to  submit  to  certain  priva- 
tions on  privileges  that  are  enjoyed  by  other 
Municipal  Organisations.  But  if  the  Govern- 
ment does  intervene  in  certain  of  the  city's 


STATE  CONTKOL  OF  EXPENSES. 


301 


affairs — that  is,  lias  something  to  say  about  the 
expense  of  paving  the  streets,  maintaining  the 
Police,  the  Municipal  guards,  etc.,— it  also  pays 
a  part  of  the  expenses  thereof,  besides  doing  all 
in  its  power  to  embellish  Paris  with  handsome 
monuments.  For  several  years  past  there  has 
been  a  constant  struggle  on  the  part  of  the 
Paris  Municipal  Council  to  free  themselves 
from  this  guardianship  of  the  State,  as  ex- 
pressed by  the  Prefect  of  the  Seine,  but  the 
Government  remembers  the  old  saying,  "  To 
be  Master  of  Paris  is  to  be  Master  over  France," 
and  so  maintains  the  State  control  over  the 
annual  appropriations. 

Some  historians  give  to  Louis  IX  the  honour 
of  founding  an  institution  of  which  the  last  of 
his  race  made  such  bad  use ;  but  it  is  probable 
that  the  first  police  force  was  organised  by 
Hugues  Caput.  However,  there  is  no  straight 
account  anywhere  as  regards  the  police,  or  guet, 
of  those  earlier  centuries,  and  it  is  not  until  the 
reign  of  Louis  XIV  that  we  really  learn  some- 
thing definite  on  that  subject. 

La  Reynie  was  the  first  Lieutenant  of  Police ; 
he  took  hold  the  29th  of  March,  1667,  and  one 
of  his  earliest  rules  was  to  establish  the  use  of 
lanterns.    Before  then  obscurity  was  an  aid  to 


302 


PARIS. 


all  crimes ;  so  it  came  about  that  every  owner  of 
a  house  was  ordered  to  hang,  after  nine  o'clock 
at  night,  and  from  a  window  of  the  second 
floor,  a  lantern  with  a  lighted  candle  in  it, 
and  every  person  who  was  in  the  street  after 
that  hour  was  also  obliged  to  carry  a  lighted 
lantern. 

The  second  Lieutenant  of  Police,  of  whom 
there  is  any  record,  was  the  Marquis  d'  Argeu- 
son.  He  was  appointed  in  January,  1697,  and 
remained  in  office  until  June,  1718 ;  but  he  was 
re-appointed  to  the  place  in  April,  1782.  In 
the  mean  time  the  indecent  morals  and  corrup- 
tions of  the  Regency,  the  debaucheries  of 
noblemen,  the  libertineage  of  abbots,  the 
prostitution  of  ladies,  the  scandals  of  stock  job- 
bing, the  encouragement  of  rapacity,  cheating 
and  intrigues,  the  thefts,  murders  and  assassin- 
ations had  become  less  frequent,  still  the  police 
continued  to  authorise  the  opening  of  tripots, 
or  gambling  houses,  under  the  surveillance  of 
detectives,  however,  and  these  espions  were 
chosen  from  public  women,  cab-drivers,  and  a 
few  of  the  better  class  of  individuals  who  had 
lost  all  their  money  and  were  deep  in  debt. 
The  reign  of  Louis  XV  began  with  religious 
excess  and  finished  in  an  excess  of  debauchery ; 


LIEUTENANT  OP  POLICE,  303 


the  police  force  of  Paris  aiding  the  King  ma- 
terially at  both  extremities. 

The  fourteenth  and  last  Lieutenant  of  Police 
was  Thiroux  de  Crosue,  who  took  charge  when 
Louis  XVI  had  been  sovereign  for  eleven  years. 
Under  that  Bourbon,  and  until  the  taking  of 
the  Bastille,  the  Paris  police  were  about  the 
same  as  they  had  been  under  his  predecessor, 
which  is  equivalent  to  saying  they  were  of  little 
use  as  a  preventive  to  crime. 

The  Revolution  suppressed  the  office  of 
Lieutenant  of  Police,  and  the  force  was  put  un- 
der the  management  of  a  permanent  committee. 
Several  changes  occurred  within  a  few  years, 
until  finally  in  February,  1800,  (law  of  28  plu- 
viose  an  8,)  a  Prefet  of  Police  was  created. 
This  is  the  title  or  designation  of  the  official  at 
the  head  of  the  Paris  police  force,  but  it  was 
not  retained  always  during  those  four  distinct 
periods  of  history  known  as  Republican,  Consu- 
lar, Imperial,  and  foreign  Revolution,  called 
Restoration.  The  conduct  of  the  police  during 
these  fifteen  years  of  u  restaur ation"  is  so  cov- 
ered with  infamy  that  it  will  never  be  forgot- 
ten. It  co-operated  in  the  secret  mission  given 
to  Maulereuil  for  the  assassination  of  Napo- 
leon, his  son  and  his  brothers;  it  compelled  the 


304  PAKIS. 

celebration  of  Sunday,  and  it  kept  hired  spies 
in  every  household.  Then  after  the  One  Hun- 
dred Days,  it  took  up  again  its  work  of  anger 
and  vengeance. 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  Parisians 
should  finally  have  swept  all  the  rascals  out, 
have  sent  the  last  of  the  Bourbons  into  exile, 
or  have  crowned  all  edifices  with  the  three- 
coloured  flag  of  victory  and  of  justice.  It  can 
hardly  be  said,  however,  that  the  police  force 
of  Louis  Philippe  was  any  better  than  its  prede- 
cessors in  many  ways,  while  as  for  that  of  the 
Second  Empire  it  was  no  more  or  less  than  a 
part  of  the  system  of  espionage  which  Napo- 
leon III  had  hastened  to  establish  all  over 
France. 

In  the  Third  Republic  the  police  force  of 
Paris  was  again  taken  in  hand,  this  time  by 
the  Municipal  Council,  although  the  State  had 
its  share  of  authority  in  the  premises.  If  a 
good  police  force  is  necessary  anywhere,  it  is 
necessary  in  a  city  which  contains  the  Govern- 
ment of  the  State,  the  representatives  of  for- 
eign powers,  visitors  from  all  parts  of  the 
world,  and  a  population  close  on  to  three  million 
souls!  Paris  is  just  such  a  capital,  and  there 
is  good  reason  why  a  Government  that  has  to 


APPOINTMENT  OF  PKEFET.  305 


watch  over  so  many  diverse  elements  should 
have  the  police  force  in  its  own  hands. 

Nominally,  the  subordinate  of  the  Minister 
of  the  Interior,  the  Pref6t  of  Police  is  appointed 
by  that  Minister ;  but  his  officers  are  organised 
by  himself  and  on  his  own  responsibility  to 
the  Minister ;  he  makes  such  police  ordinances 
as  he  deems  best,  without  being  under  any 
legal  necessity  of  referring  the  matter  to  the 
Municipal  council;  he  is  not  even  required 
to  go  before  the  Council,  and  he  does  so  only 
when  he  feels  like  it,  or  under  instruction  from 
the  Minister.  He  has  nothing  to  ask  from  it 
but  an  appropriation,  and  although  the  city's 
portion  amounts  to  $5,400,000,  he  can,  under 
certain  conditions,  and  in  case  of  refusal  on 
the  part  of  the  Council  get  even  that.  As  for 
the  remainder  of  the  sum  necessary  to  run  the 
branches  of  the  Paris  police,  it  is  furnished  by 
the  State,  and  is  included  in  the  annual  budget. 

The  Prefet  of  Police  receives  a  large  salary, 
house  rent  free,  two  carriages  with  horses  and 
coachman,  furniture,  office  expenses,  a  secret 
fund,  a  box  in  all  the  theatres  and  at  the 
Grand  Opera,  and  free  passes  on  all  railways. 

After  the  Prefet,  there  are  three  other  im- 
portant personages — the  Chief  Clerk,  the  Chief 


306 


PARIS. 


of  Police  and  the  Auditor ;  there  are  also  three 
distinct  organisations — the  bureaux,  the  com- 
missaires  of  police,  and  the  active  force.  The 
Commissaires  of  Police  are  magistrates  named 
by  the  President  of  the  Republic  at  the  request 
of  the  Minister  of  the  Interior,  and  placed  un- 
der the  orders  of  the  Prefet;  their  attribu- 
tions are  administrative  as  well  as  judiciary. 

All  the  police  who  are  in  uniform  are  known 
as  "  gardiens  de  la  paix"  and  all  the  police  not 
in  uniform  are  "  inspecteursy  They  enter  the 
force  on  the  same  conditions ;  they  are  subject 
to  the  same  rules  of  advancement  and  retire- 
ment ;  the  only  real  difference  in  their  positions 
is  in  the  perquisites  which  the  inspecteurs 
manage  to  pick  up. 

The  Chief  of  Police  has  also  under  his  orders 
a  "  chef  de  la  surete  "  or  Chief  of  Detectives  ; 
also  the  following  brigades,  as  they  are  called : 

(1)  "  Brigades  des  garnis"  that  is  to  say, 
police  having  charge  of  the  hotels  and  lodging 
houses;  they  have  to  see  to  it  that  all  the 
registers  of  lodgers  in  the  capital  are  exact,  and 
to  report  the  movements  of  all  tenants  and 
travellers.  A  traveller  arrives;  his  name  is 
demanded  by  the  one  in  charge  of  the  hotel  or 
lodgings,  and  the  name  he  gives,  his  residence, 


THE  DIFFERENT  BRIGADES. 


307 


profession,  etc.,  are  written  and  furnished  to 
these  police ;  it  is  a  brigade  of  spies  which  oc- 
cupy themselves  more  with  politics  and  scan- 
dals than  they  do  with  the  public  security. 

(2)  "  Brigades  des  recherches"  of  which 
*  there  are  four.    The  duties  of  these  police  are 

to  make  inquiries  about  all  strangers ;  the  sup- 
pression of  unlawful  gambling;  to  keep  watch 
of  all  clubs ;  to  look  after  commercial  and  finan- 
cial societies,  balls,  and  concerts  ;  to  make  in- 
quiries in  the  interests  of  families,  or  of  the 
police  administration ;  to  furnish  interpreters ; 
to  look  after  the  vegetable  pedlars  in  the 
streets ;  to  investigate  the  cases  of  individuals 
arrested  flagrante  delicto,  under  certain  cir- 
cumstances;— in  brief,  to  "have  a  protecting 
oversight  over  all  things."  Under  this  elastic 
term,  the  Prefet  manages  to  make  a  good  deal 
of  use  of  the  "  brigades  de  recherches"  in  the 
way  of  political  police. 

(3)  "Brigades  centrales."  Four  of  these 
brigades  make  each  day  the  service  of  the  Pre- 
fecture of  Police  at  the  theatres,  at  balls  and 
concerts,  and  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne;  they 
also  have  to  do  with  the  horse  races,  military 
reviews,  and  publics  fetes  or  ceremonies.  The 
fifth  central  brigade  has  charge  of  all  vehicles ; 


3C8 


PARIS. 


the  sixth,  or  "  brigades  de  holies"  looks  after 
the  free  circulation  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
large  markets  known  as  the  Halles  Centrales. 

(4.)  "  Brigades  d' }  Arrondissernents."  There 
are  twenty  of  these  brigades,  each  with  a  cap- 
tain at  its  head  who  commands,  under  the  orders 
of  the  Chief  of  Police,  three  or  four  briga- 
diers or  lieutenants,  twenty-four  sous-briga- 
diers, or  sergeants,  and  a  number  of  "  gardiens 
de  la  paix"  which  varies  according  to  the  im- 
portance and  size  of  the  arrondissement  or 
ward.  The  effective  of  each  arrondissement  is 
divided  into  three  brigades,  commanded  each 
by  one  lieutenant  and  two  sergeants,  and  each 
brigade  is  subdivided  into  four  "sous  brigades  "  ; 
that  is  to  say,  one  for  each  quarter  of  the  city. 
These  police  have  charge  of  all  other  market 
houses  than  those  already  mentioned,  all  cab 
stands,  slaughtering  houses,  and  the  protection 
of  the  capital  generally.  There  are  540  cab- 
stands, 44  markets,  and  1280  "  beats,"  or 
Hots,  as  they  are  called  in  Paris. 

(5.)  "  Controle  General"  This  service  has 
charge  of  all  ordinances  concerning  the  publi- 
cations of  books  and  newspapers,  of  pedlars  of 
literature,  and  bill  posting.  The  policing  of 
the  river,  the  department  of  weights  and  meas- 


THE  FIRE  DEPARTMENT.  309 


Tires,  the  city  laboratory,  the  sanitary  condi- 
tion of  the  city,  and  all  public  dispensations 
are  under  the  charge  of  this  general  control. 

(6.)  The  " sapeurs  pompiers"  or  fire  de- 
partment. This  corps  consists,  in  round  num- 
bers, of  two  thousand  men;  it  is  a  regiment 
under  the  control  of  the  Minister  of  War  in  all 
matters  that  relate  to  the  recruiting,  discipline 
and  promotion  of  its  members,  for  it  is  a  part 
of  the  French  army;  but  so  far  as  relates  to 
their  services  at  fires,  they  are  under  the  exclu- 
sive orders  and  management  of  the  Prefect  of 
Police. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


The  Capital  dotted  with  military  barracks — An  Empire 
represented  by  four  monuments — The  Place  du 
Carrousel — A  courtyard  filled  with  ghastly  sou- 
venirs— Its  paving  stones  stained  with  human 
blood — Scene  of  ancient  tournaments — The  grand 
fete  given  by  Louis  XIV  its  only  carousal — Legend 
of  the  "Little  Man  in  Bed" — The  many  troubles 
which  followed  his  appearance — Santerre  and  his 
rough  rabble — Massacre  of  the  Swiss  Guard — 
Josephine  as  an  hostess — A  famous  dance  hall — 
White  flag  of  the  Bourbons — The  Grand  Arc  de 
Triomphe — An  imposing  colossal  edifice — Anec- 
dote of  a  Prussian  colonel  and  the  children  of 
Paris — The  funeral  obsequies  of  Victor  Hugo. 

The  First  Kepublic  having  disappeared  in 
the  smoke  of  battle  or  despotic  tumult,  Napo- 
leon the  victorious  came  in  and  made  an  Em- 
pire of  France,  and  very  soon  the  capital  was 
dotted  with  barracks  for  armed  men.  It  is 
true  that  some  works  of  public  utility  were 
undertaken,  but  the  sound  of  cannon  was  more 
often  heard  than  the  sound  of  spade  or 
hammer. 


PLACE  Dtl  CARROUSEL. 


311 


The  First  Empire  is  represented  in  Paris  by 
four  monuments  only :  one  temple,  two  trium- 
phal arches,  and  a  column  copied  after  that  of 
Trajan.  Of  the  Temple  de  la  Victoire,  better 
known  as  the  Church  of  the  Madeleine,  and  of 
the  Column  Vendome,  I  have  already  written. 

The  arch  in  the  Place  du  Carrousel,  with  its 
marble  columns  and  its  bronze  capitals,  is  an 
exact  reproduction  of  the  arch  of  Septimus  Sev- 
erus  at  Rome;  but  the  bas-reliefs  and  the 
antique  statue  of  the  model  were  replaced  by 
modern  subjects,  to  the  glory  of  Napoleon. 
This  Place  du  Carrousel  is  about  as  well  known 
as  any  open  square  in  Paris.  Everybody  has 
been  in  it,  not  particularly  to  visit  it,  for  aside 
from  the  Gambetta  monument,  and  a  pretty 
little  patch  of  shrubbery  with  a  few  flowers, 
surrounded  by  an  iron  fence,  there  is  nothing 
whatever  in  the  place  worth  mentioning.  The 
buildings  of  the  Louvre,  of  the  Pavilion  de 
Flore  along  the  Seine,  and  of  the  Pavilion  de 
Marsan  along  the  Rue  de  Rivoli,  where  the 
Minister  of  Finance  is  to  be  found,  present  a 
good  effect.  Here  and  there  are  statues  in 
niches  of  great  men  who  once  lived  in  France. 
Over  some  of  the  doors  are  emblems  of  royalty, 
while  by  the  grand  arcades  through  which  all 


312 


PAEIS. 


sorts  of  vehicles  are  rushing  into  the  Place  de 
la  Comedie  Frangaise,  one  sees  the  Napoleonic 
"  N's  "  that  have  been  left  untouched  by  a  peo- 
ple who  do  not  seem  to  worry  any  now  about 
things  reminding  them  of  empire  or  monarchy. 
At  night  electric  lamps  perched  high  up  on 
slender  poles  cast  powerful  lights  and  dark 
shadows  on  a  square  courtyard  filled  with 
ghostly  souvenirs  of  a  past  which  was  only  too 
often  terribly  important.  The  Place  du  Car- 
rousel is  a  large  open  space  lying  between  the 
buildings  of  the  old  Louvre  and  the  ground 
where  the  Palace  of  the  Tuileries  once  stood. 
It  is  a  square  through  which  a  dozen  genera- 
tions of  kings — the  old  Monarchy,  the  First  and 
Second  Republics,  two  Empires,  the  Restora- 
tion, the  July  Monarchy — Bourbons,  Orleanists, 
Revolutionists  and  Bonapartists,  have  in  turn 
looked  from  palace  windows  and  seen  their 
power  swept  away  by  howling  mobs.  Many  a 
time  and  oft,  between  the  reign  of  Louis  XII 
and  that  of  Napoleon  III,  have  its  paving  stones 
been  stained  with  human  blood ;  and  if  they 
could  only  speak,  they  might  bear  witness  to 
many  stirring  events  in  French  history. 

The  name  "  Carrousel "  comes  from  the  Ital- 
ian word  caroselle — "  a  little  chariot."  Origi- 


.fetes  and  tournaments.  313 


tially  the  square  was  a  stretcli  of  open  ground 
lying  outside  of  the  city  walls,  with  a  lane 
running  through  it  from  the  farm  of  the  Ma- 
thurins  to  the  river.  Tournaments  were  very 
common  in  Franco  until  after  Montgomery 
killed  Henry  II,  which  accident  led  to  their 
being  done  away  with  in  favour  of  chariot  races 
and  equestrian  exercises  made  up  of  allegorical 
representations  of  some  famous  event  in  the 
history  of  the  Prince  in  whose  honour  they 
were  given.  These  displays  w^ere  called  "  car- 
r ousels"  and  the  first  one  ever  given  came  off 
in  the  courtyard  of  the  Louvre,  while  Henry 
IV  was  King.  The  same  monarch  gave  another 
on  the  Notre  Dame  bridge,  while  his  successor, 
Louis  XIII,  gave  at  the  time  of  his  marriage 
a  carousal  which  nearly  bankrupted  him  and 
the  entire  Court. 

"When  Louis  XIV  ascended  the  throne,  all 
that  part  of  the  present  Place  du  Carrousel 
which  was  not  covered  by  a  sort  of  u  shanty 
town,"  lay  along  the  outskirts  of  the  city. 
Until  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  century 
it  had  been  a  marshy  strip  of  ground  belonging 
to  nobody  in  particular,  where  the  street  scav- 
engers emptied  their  garbage  carts  and  where 
Courtiers  went  to  fight  duels.    In  the  year 


314 


PARIS, 


1620  it  was  enclosed  with  a  wall  and  laid  out 
as  a  garden  for  the  use  of  Mademoiselle  de 
Montpensier,  who  occupied  one  wing  of  the 
Chateau  des  Tuileries.  That  wall  was  pulled 
down  during  the  reign  of  Louis  XIV,  the  gar- 
den became  a  public  square,  and  a  few  years 
later  the  King  gave  here  certain  carousal  fetes, 
which  lasted  three  days,  and  cost  him  one  mil- 
lion, two  hundred  thousand  livres.  A  frame 
structure  was  built  around  the  square  for  the 
accommodation  of  spectators  who  gathered  to 
witness  the  races,  ballets,  processions,  and  tilt- 
ing matches.  Three  queens — the  wife  of 
Louis  XIV,  his  mother,  and  the  Queen  of  Eng- 
land— were  present.  On  the  last  day  there 
was  a  mounted  ballet  composed  of  five  quad- 
rilles, each  representing  a  different  nation. 
Louis  XIV  led  the  Romans ;  his  brother  was 
at  the  head  of  the  Persians ;  the  Prince  de 
Conde  led  the  Turks ;  his  son,  the  Due  d'En- 
ghien,  the  Hindoos,  while  the  Due  de  Guise 
led  the  American  Indians.  This  Duke  of 
Guise,  grandson  of  the  one  who  helped  Marie 
de  Medicis  to  plan  and  carry  out  the  massacre 
of  Saint  Bartholomew,  tried  to  make  himself 
master  of  Naples.  His  long  imprisonment,  his 
many  duels,  his  numerous  love  intrigues,  his 


SPECTRE  OP  THE  PALACES.  315 


lavishness,  profligacy  and  wild  exploits  of  all 
kinds,  caused  people,  when  they  saw  him  tak- 
ing part  with  Conde  in  the  carousal,  to  ex- 
claim, "  There  is  the  hero  of  History  tilting 
with  the  hero  of  Fable.*"  Such  was  the  first 
and  only  "  carousal  "  ever  given  in  the  place, 
and  yet  the  name  has  always  stuck  to  it. 

There  exists  a  tradition  that  the  Louvre, 
this  great  square,  and  the  Tuileries  palace, 
when  it  existed,  were  haunted  by  a  spectre 
called  the  Petit  Homme  Rouge.  The  appear- 
ance of  this  spectre  was  always  followed  by  a  Na- 
tional misfortune,  civil  commotion,  Revolution, 
public  disaster,  or  death  of  the  head  of  State. 
When  Catherine  de  Medicis  built  the  Tuileries 
she  took  forcible  possession  of  other  peoj^le's 
property,  including  a  butcher's  shop,  the  owner 
of  which  was  known  among  the  neighbours  as 
the  "  Little  Man  in  Red,"  because  of  his  bloody 
business.  This  butcher  became  the  accidental 
witness  of  some  of  the  amorous  exploits  which 
took  place  in  the  new  Chateau,  and  to  insure 
his  silence  the  Queen's  mother  had  him  de- 
coyed into  a  subterranean  passageway  which 
connected  the  Tuileries  with  the  Louvre, 
where  he  was  murdered.  Thereupon  the  spirit 
of  the  poor  fellow  took  up  its  abode  in  the 


316 


PAKIS. 


garret  of  the  Tuileries,  and  ever  since  then 
lie  had  been  a  herald  of  death  or  misfortune  to 
its  occupants. 

In  the  latter  days  of  the  reign  of  the  "  Grand 
Monarque,"  the  Petit  Homme  Rouge  showed 
himself  to  Louis  XIV.  Followed  ruinous  and 
disastrous  war,  the  death  of  the  Duke  de  Bour- 
goyne  and  his  wife  within  six  days  of  each 
other,  then  the  King's  own  death,  leaving  the 
crown  to  an  infant,  and  the  people  to  the 
mercy  of  a  profligate  regent  during  a  long 
minority.  . 

Louis  XV  was  called  by  his  people  "  Le  Bien 
Aim.ee/ '  when  he  first  mounted  the  throne ;  but 
they  came  to  hate  him  more  than  they  had  ever 
hated  any  of  his  predecessors  before  they  were 
done  with  him.  His  reign  was  a  long  one,  but 
one  day,  he  met  the  "  Little  Man  in  Red,"  and 
soon  afterward  he  caught  the  smallpox  and 
was  ere  long  carried  to  Saint  Denis. 

It  may  have  been  that  Louis  XVI,  who  had 
to  pay  with  his  head  for  all  the  tyrannical  do- 
ings of  his  ancestors,  also  saw  the  butcher's 
ghost  the  first  night  after  he  slept  in  the  Tuil- 
eries,  when  the  mob  had  forced  the  Royal  fam- 
ily to  move  into  Paris  from  Versailles,  but  the 
legend  does  not  tell  us  so. 


BKUTALITY  OP  SANTEKRE.  317 


On  the  20th  of  June,  1792,  the  sans  calottes 
gathered  in  the  Place  du  Carrousel  and  forced 
their  way  into  the  palace  of  the  Tuileries.  For 
six  long  hours  the  Royal  family  were  forced  to 
witness  a  defile  of  the  vilest  scum  through  their 
rich  apartments.  The  King  and  the  Queen  were 
seated  at  the  council  table  ;  while  the  Princess 
Elizabeth  sat  beside  her  sister-in-law,  who  held 
the  young  Dauphin  in  her  arms  and  from  time 
to  time  stood  him  on  the  table  for  the  people  to 
look  at.  One  fellow,  as  he  passed,  took  off  his 
red  cap  and  placed  it  on  the  head  of  the  infant 
Prince,  who  began  to  laugh  and  amuse  himself 
by  peeping  out  from  under  it  at  the  crowd; 
whereupon  Santerre,  noticing  that  this  baby 
incident  was  putting  the  rabble  into  a  good 
humour,  brutally  shouted  :  "  Take  off  that  cap ! 
Don't  you  see  it  is  stifling  the  child? " 

Among  the  spectators  of  the  extraordinary 
scene  was  a  young  lieutenant  of  artillery,  who, 
as  he  walked  away  when  all  was  over,  quietly 
remarked,  u  "With  three  cannon  planted  at  the 
palace  door  I  could  sweep  the  Place  du  Carrousel 
of  all  this  canaille  in  five  minutes."  That 
officer,  Bonaparte  by  name,  was  destined  to  be 
the  immediate  successor  of  Louis  XVI  in  the 
Tuileries,  and  only  three  years  later  he  had 


318 


PAKIS. 


opportunity  to  show  the  effect  of  skilfully 
handled  guns  on  a  mob,  when,  from  the  steps 
of  the  church  of  Saint  Roch,  he  cleared  the 
same  place  and  put  an  end  to  the  Reign  of 
Terror. 

The  event  of  the  20th  of  June  was  but  a 
rehearsal  for  the  tragedy  of  the  10th  of  August, 
when  a  Paris  mob  again  attacked  the  palace. 
The  gallant  defence  of  the  Swiss  Guard,  their 
massacre,  and  the  flight  of  Louis  XVI  and 
Marie  Antoinette  to  seek  safety  at  the  bar  of 
the  convention,  is  an  oft-told  tale.  A  few  days 
later  a  newly  invented  instrument,  called  the 
guillotine,  was  set  up  in  the  centre  of  the 
square,  just  about  the  spot  where  the  small 
triumphal  arch  erected  by  Napoleon  now  stands, 
and  began  its  work  of  cutting  off  the  heads  of 
those  who  displeased  the  Revolutionary  leaders. 
All  the  executions  of  the  earlier  days  of  the 
Revolution  took  place  there,  but  towards  the 
end  of  1792  the  dread  instrument  was  trans- 
ferred to  the  Place  de  la  Revolution. 

Next  the  fanatics  of  the  epoch  built  a  strange 
monument  in  the  Place  du  Carrousel.  It  was 
a  little  building,  containing  a  plaster  bust  of 
the  infamous  Marat,  also  the  washtub  in  which 
he  was  bathing  when  Charlotte  Corday  stabbed 


JOSEPHINE  AS  A  HOSTESS.  319 


him;  his  lamp,  inkstand,  pen,  samples  of  his 
handwriting,  and  other  souvenirs.  Daily  a 
soldier  was  stationed  to  guard  the  monument, 
but  one  morning  the  sentinel  was  found  dead. 
Whether  he  was  killed  by  the  cold,  or  was 
frightened  to  death  by  the  apparition  of  the 
Petit  Homme  Rouge,  no  one  ever  knew. 
The  strange  monument  was  pulled  down  in  1 796, 
when  Bonaparte  removed  from  the  Luxembourg 
to  the  Tuileries. 

The  Carrousel  being  densely  packed  with 
spectators,  General  Bonaparte  drove  into  the 
square  in  an  open  carriage  drawn  by  six  white 
horses  and  surrounded  by  a  brilliant  staff. 
This  was  the  first  time  that  he  publicly  wore 
the  little  cocked  hat  which  afterwards  became 
so  famous  as  his  invariable  head  covering.  In 
the  Carrousel  he  left  the  carriage  and  mounted 
a  horse,  in  order  to  pass  in  review  the  regiments 
which  had  been  ordered  out  to  do  him  military 
honours.  A  grand  dinner  inaugurated  his  taking 
possession  of  the  Bourbon  mansion,  and  it  was 
followed  by  a  diplomatic  reception,  at  which 
Josephine  played  hostess  in  a  way  that  showed 
her  guests  that  she  was  well-bred. 

Bonaparte  made  many  changes,  but  even 
then  the  Place  du  Carrousel  was  nothing  like 


320 


PARIS. 


as  large  as  it  now  is.  There  were  several 
streets  included  within  its  limits;  in  one  of 
these,  the  Rue  de  Chartres,  was  a  ballroom 
called  the  Vauxhall  d'Hiver,  which  seems  to 
have  been  a  rather  lively  place.  Carriages 
could  drive  inside  of  it,  and  the  ballroom  was 
simply  enormous.  There  were  boxes  all  around 
like  at  an  Opera  house,  while  the  upper  gallery 
was  used  as  a  promenade.  Here  all  the  petits 
maitresses  and  grisettes  of  the  day  used  to 
assemble  to  dance,  to  flirt  and  to  arrange 
rendezvous.  This  eighteenth  century  "  Mabille  " 
was  turned  into  a  theatre  in  1792,  which  was 
christened  the  Vaudeville,  and  thus  became  the 
ancestor  of  the  theatre  of  that  name  that  now 
stands  on  the  corner  of  the  Boulevard  and  the 
Rue  de  la  Chaussee  d'Antin. 

After  he  became  Emperor,  Napoleon  I  was 
the  hero  of  many  splendid  pageants  which 
passed  through  the  Place  du  Carrousel,  such  as 
the  coronation,  the  divorce  from  Josephine,  the 
marriage  to  Marie  Louise,  the  birth  of  the 
King  of  Rome. 

Then  one  morning  the  tricolour  flag  was 
hauled  down  from  the  Pavilion  de  THorlorge 
and  the  white  flag  of  the  Bourbons  was  hoisted 
in  its  place,    A  few  days  later  Louis  XVIII 


COSSACKS  m  THE  CARROUSEL.  321 


entered  the  Tuileries  and  as  lie  climbed  the  stairs 
lie  remarked  that  there  was  nothing  changed  in 
France,  only  there  was  one  more  Frenchman. 
A  regiment  of  Cossacks  bivouacked  in  the 
Place  du  Carrousel,  sent  there  to  protect  from 
an  angry  populace  certain  workmen  who  were 
removing  from  the  triumphal  arch  the  horses  of 
Saint  Mark  which  Napoleon  had  brought  from 
Venice.  The  famous  bronze  group  was  re- 
stored to  the  City  of  the  Doges,  and  a  statue 
of  glory — the  Glory  of  the  Restoration — took 
its  place.  Conspiracies,  riots,  and  disorders 
followed  in  succession  ;  but  the  king  finished  his 
reign  as  no  other  French  sovereign  had  done 
since  Louis  XV,  for  he  died  in  his  own  bed. 

With  the  exception  of  his  funeral,  also  the 
rejoicings  over  the  birth  of  Count  de  Cham- 
bord,  and  the  pageant  of  the  Coronation  of 
Charles  X,  the  quiet  of  the  Palace  du  Carrousel 
was  rarely  disturbed  during  succeeding  years. 

The  short  revolution  of  1830  made  the  place 
lively  once  more,  but  that  "  carrousel "  ended 
with  the  enthroning  of  Louis  Philippe,  and 
soon  he  was  visited  by  the  spectre  of  Le  Petit 
Homme  Rouge.  Talleyrand  died ;  the  Duke 
of  Orleans,  heir  to  the  crown,  was  thrown  out 
of  his  carriage  and  killed. 


322 


PAKIS. 


In  1848  another  tidal  wave  swept  through 
the  Place  du  Carrousel,  and  Louis  Philippe  fled 
to  England  for  safety.  He  never  returned  to 
France,  but  hardly  was  he  out  of  the  country 
when  a  man  whom  he  had  kept  in  exile  re- 
turned to  his  native  land  and  began  to  fish  in 
the  troubled  waters  of  French  politics.  Louis 
Napoleon  soon  had  the  Imperial  crown  on  his 
head,  and  he  bore  it  for  nearly  twenty  years. 
He  embellished  the  Carrousel  by  giving  it  its 
present  appearance  and  by  restoring  the 
Triumphal  Arch  as  it  now  stands. 

But  in  the  midst  of  the  "  Glory  "  that  was 
shed  over  France  by  this  the  last  of  the  Bona- 
partes,  the  red  spectre  made  another  appearance  : 
followed  the  disastrous  war  with  Germany, 
the  surrender  of  the  Emperor,  the  flight  of  the 
Empress,  the  horrors  of  a  siege,  the  terrors  of 
a  commune.  But  that  last  appearance  of  the 
Petit  Homme  Rouge  was  also  followed  by  the 
establishment  of  the  Third  Republic,  which 
grows  stronger  and  better  as  it  grows  older,  and 
which  has  brought  peace  and  prosperity  to  the 
French  Nation. 

If,  however,  the  Arch  in  the  Carrousel  is  out 
of  place,  not  so  with  the  Arc  de  1'Etoile,  as  the 
great  Triumphal  Arch  of  Paris  is  rightly  called. 


THE  GREAT  TRIUMPHAL  ARCH. 


323 


The  gigantic  mass,  its  dominant  position  at  the 
top  of  the  beautiful  avenue  of  the  Champs 
Elysees,  gives  to  the  Arc  de  Triomphe  that 
grand  importance  which  such  a  monument  should 
possess.  It  was  Napoleon  I  who  selected  the 
site,  and  the  first  stone  was  put  in  place  the 
fifteenth  of  August,  1806.  The  architect 
selected  for  this  gigantic  work  was  Monsieur 
Chalgrin,  but  he  died  in  1811,  long  before  his 
task  was  finished.  A  pupil  of  his  by  the  name 
of  Goust  succeeded,  and  he  scrupulously  tried 
to  follow  out  the  plans  of  his  regretted  master. 
In  1814  work  on  the  arch  was  interrupted,  and 
was  not  renewed  until  1823,  when  it  was  taken 
up  by  an  architect  named  Huyot.  In  1833 
still  another  architect  took  hold,  and  he  con- 
structed the  attic ;  but  it  was  not  until  1836 
that  the  arch  was  finally  inaugurated. 

It  had  served  a  purpose  some  time  before 
that,  however;  for  when  Marie  Louise  made 
her  entrance  into  Paris,  Napoleon  was  for  hav- 
ing her  pass  under  the  Arc  de  Triomphe,  and  the 
only  question  was  how  to  do  it.  In  a  few  hours, 
with  painted  canvas  and  the  aid  of  carpenters, 
a  construction  was  arranged  to  show  what  the 
monument  would  be  like,  and  the  young  Em- 
press passed  through  this  imitation  structure. 


324 


PAKIS. 


The  early  work  on  the  arch  was  very  diffi- 
cult, as  the  soil  offered  no  security  for  its  foun- 
dations. It  was  necessary  to  dig  to  a  depth 
of  twenty-five  feet,  and  to  form  an  artificial 
base  of  heavy  cut  stones  which  would  support 
without  danger  the  enormous  weight  of  the 
structure.  The  total  cost  of  the  edifice  was 
$1,810,000,  and  for  so  much  money  perhaps  a 
perfect  work  might  have  been  erected,  which, 
however,  was  not  the  case. 

Still,  if  it  is  not  exactly  a  masterpiece  of 
architecture,  if  it  lacks  unity  and  style,  the  Arc 
de  Triomphe  certainly  makes  up  in  grandeur, 
even  as  it  is  far  superior  in  dimensions  to  the 
greatest  arches  of  antiquity.  It  rises  to  a 
total  height  of  over  one  hundred  and  sixty 
feet,  with  a  width  of  one  hundred  and  forty- 
eight  feet,  the  height  of  its  principal  arch  being 
ninety-three  feet  above  the  pavement.  It  is  an 
imposing,  colossal  edifice,  one  that  can  be  seen 
from  afar  off,  looming  up  above  the  capital. 
The  sculptures  with  which  it  is  adorned  play  only 
the  simple  role  of  ornament  to  a  grand  pile. 
They  might  all  be  cut  away  without  hurting 
its  architecture  in  the  least,  and  seen  from  a 
distance,  say  a  quarter  of  a  mile  or  so,  the 
effect  would  be  the  same  without  as  with  them. 


IT  STILL  AWAITS  ITS  CROWN,  325 

This  ornamentation  consists  of  four  groups, 
two  on  each  fagade,  in  allegorical  figures  resting 
in  four  tympans  of  the  grand  arch  and  in  the 
four  tympans  of  the  lateral  arches,  in  bas-re- 
lief, and  in  the  frieze  of  high-relief  which  makes 
the  circuit  of  the  edifice  above. 

Strange  to  say,  this  magnificent  triumphal 
arch  has  not  yet  been  completely  finished,  so 
far  as  the  architect's  plans  are  concerned.  It 
was  intended  that  the  platform  at  the  top,  and 
from  whence  a  splendid  view  of  the  capital  and 
its  suburbs  can  be  obtained,  was  to  have  been 
crowned  with  something  or  other,  and  no  end 
of  projects  were  submitted.  One  of  the  earlier 
architects  proposed  isolated  figures,  represent- 
ing the  leading  cities  of  France  ;  the  sugges- 
tion was  refused,  but  it  was  made  use  of  later 
when  the  Place  de  la  Concorde  was  being 
beautified.  A  sculptor  named  Seurre  was  for 
having  victorious  France  borne  on  a  chariot 
drawn  by  six  horses.  This  project  was  carried 
out  in  a  painting  which  decorated  the  Arch  dur- 
ing the  f ties  of  July,  1838. 

In  1840,  when  Napoleon's  remains  were 
brought  from  the  River  Seine  at  Coubervoire 
to  the  Invalided,  another  picture  was  placed  on 
top  of  the  monument,  which  represented  the 


326 


PARIS. 


Emperor  standing  on  a  trophy  of  arms  and  sur- 
rounded by  the  attributes  of  Victory.  Sculptor 
Rude  also  liad  his  idea ;  he  wanted  a  colossal 
figure  of  France  standing  on  a  sphere,  holding 
in  one  hand  the  torch  of  Civilisation,  the  other 
hand  resting  on  a  lion  that  was  intended  to 
figure  as  Popular  Force.  This  and  other  pro- 
jects were  all  abandoned ;  but  in  more  recent 
years  we  had  the  quadriga  of  Falguiere,  a 
mediocre  imitation  of  the  triumphal  car  of  an- 
tiquity. It  remained  on  high  only  a  short 
while,  however,  and  everybody  in  Paris  was 
glad  when  it  was  finally  taken  down  again. 
The  grand  edifice  still  awaits  its  crown. 

From  the  base  of  this  Triumphal  Arch  radi- 
ate no  fewer  than  thirteen  broad  and  splendid 
avenues,  the  Avenue  of  the  Champs  ^lysees, 
the  Avenue  de  la  Grande  Armee,  the  Avenue 
du  Bois  de  Boulogne,  the  Avenue  Kleber,  etc., 
being  of  the  number.  Moreover,  a  wide  space 
of  land  surrounds  the  arch,  a  well-paved  place 
over  which  omnibuses,  street  cars,  carriages  of 
every  kind,  and  an  ever  countless  multitude 
seem  to  be  forever  hurrying.  It  is  a  busy  spot, 
a  striking  place,  a  "  circular  "  square;  a  beauti- 
ful opening  in  the  brilliant  city  where  people 
from  every  country  under  the  sun  may  be  seen, 


THE  PKUSSIAN  OCCUPATION".  327 


and  particularly  so,  in  the  months  of  May  and 
June,  when  Paris  puts  on  her  most  charming 
toilet,  and  becomes,  indeed,  the  capital  of  the 
world. 

This  Arch,  and  this  open  place,  was  the 
scene  of  a  great  public  demonstration  on  the 
twentieth  of  April,  1848,  when  the  Second 
Republic  distributed  flags  to  the  National 
Guards  and  to  the  Army.  It  was  a  patriotic 
and  moving  ceremony ;  but  quite  different  was 
the  demonstration  made  by  the  children  living 
in  that  part  of  Paris,  when  the  Prussians 
entered  in  1870.  The  enemy  marched  through 
Neuilly,  entered  the  city  at  the  iron  gates  close 
to  where  the  Duke  of  Orleans  was  accidentally 
killed,  and  ascended  the  Avenue  of  the  Grand 
Army.  It  was  the  German  general's  intention 
to  march  his  force  under  the  Arc  de  Triomphe ; 
but  at  the  head  of  the  small  advance  column, 
rode  a  Colonel  whose  heart  was  too  gentle  and 
too  susceptible  to  youthful  clamour  for  this 
wish  to  be  realised.  Before  the  fagade,  which 
looks  towards  the  Gates  of  Neuilly  two  thou- 
sand children  had  massed  themselves  in  one 
solid  group,  and  the  boldest  present  advanced 
a  few  yards  to  tell  this  Colonel  that  his  sol- 
diers would  have  to  ride  over  infants  before 


328 


PARIS. 


they  could  pass  through  the  Arch.  Whether 
the  gallant  officer  had  little  ones  of  his  own  at 
home,  whom  he  thought  of  just  then,  or  whether 
he  was  moved  by  this  powerful  display  of 
youthful  patriotism — whatever  it  may  have 
been  that  impelled  him  to  do  so,  he  turned  his 
horse's  head  around  the  arch,  and  the  rest  of 
the  army  followed  him. 

In  1885  we  had  another  never-to-be-forgotten 
solemnity  in  the  Place  de  l'^toile  and  about 
this  colossal  arch.  The  committee  charged  with 
the  obsequies  of  Victor  Hugo  selected  the  Arc 
de  Triomphe  as  centre  of  that  ceremony,  and 
the  coffin  of  the  illustrious  poet  was  exposed 
there  during  several  days  and  nights. 

A  sarcophagus  sixty  feet  high  was  placed 
under  the  main  arch,  on  this  rested  the  coffin, 
and  the  entire  front  of  the  massive  structure 
facing  toward  the  Champs  Elysees  was  hung 
with  an  immense  black  veil,  behind  which  fun- , 
eral  urns  held  blazing  fires.  It  was  an  august, 
serene  sight,  that  of  a  master  of  thought,  a 
great  writer,  thus  reposing,  amidst  the  sound 
of  cannon,  the  rolling  of  drums,  and  the  tolling 
of  bells,  under  the  glorious  arch  which  Napo- 
leon I  had  consecrated  to  Marengo. 

But  the  one  whom  we  saw  resting  in  the 


AN  APOSTLE  OF  PEACE.  329 


Triumphal  Arch,  was  no  captain  whose  name 
and  glory  had  been  won  in  battle.  His  was 
not  the  body  of  some  conquering  monarch, 
returned  from  many  victories.  No,  it  was  only 
that  of  an  old  man,  who  had  during  all  his  long 
life  laboured  for  truth,  for  justice,  and  for  liberty. 
We  were  assisting  at  the  capture  of  a  monu- 
ment raised  to  the  Glory  of  War  by  one  who 
was  ever  an  Apostle  of  Peace.  Napoleon 
had  erected  the  splendid  pile  to  perpetuate 
the  spirit  of  greed  and  conquest ;  but  as  we 
walked  slowly  and  silently  about  under  its  wide- 
spreading  shadow,  we  now  saw  that  it  was  the 
tomb  of  one  who  had  ever  dreamt  of  a  humanity 
full  of  peace  and  concord. 

The  glory  of  France's  armies  is  undying,  but 
that  glory  has  never  been  greater  or  more  last- 
ing than  the  glory  of  her  literature,  her  arts, 
and  her  sciences,  all  of  which  are  as  free  to  the 
world  as  the  air  we  breathe.  But  France 
knows,  Paris  knows,  that  the  wealth  which  she 
thus  gives  away  will  ever  be  her  own.  Truly 
the  Parisians  might  properly  say,  "  Non  nobis 
solum  sed  toto  mundo  nati,"  of  themselves  and 
of  their  wonderful  city. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


Lonis  XVIII  and  his  foreign  friends — How  they  im- 
posed on  the  nation — Another  revolution — The 
„  crown  on  the  head  of  Louis  Philippe — Transfor- 
mation of  the  capital — Egyptian  obelisk  and  its 
history — The  Colonne  de  Juillet — Increasing  popu- 
lation of  Paris — New  streets  and  quarters — Sewers 
and  fountains  constructed — Gas  introduced — A 
brilliantly  illuminated  city. 

The  allied  forces  of  Europe  destroyed 
Napoleon's  power,  the  Empire  was  beaten 
down  and  the  ancien  regime  restored.  It  was 
an  excellent  moment  to  bring  back  to  Paris  all 
the  old  machinery  that  had  been  put  to  such 
bad  use  before  1789  ;  tliat  is  to  say,  the  clergy 
and  nobility,  with  their  feudal  rights  over 
others,  the  Gothic  privileges,  what  not  besides, 
and  why  not,  so  far  back  as  Frangois  I  or  even 
Philippe  Augustus,  if  necessary.  The  time  was 
well  chosen  to  "  defaire  la  revolution,7'  for 
France  was  low  down  in  the  dust,  a  vanquished 
nation. 

Prussians,  Austrians,  Eussians,  and  the  Eng- 
lish entered  Paris  as  its  masters ;  but  they 


THE  ALLIES  IN  POSSESSION".  331 


brought  with  them  a  king  who  is  known  in 
history  as  Louis  XVIII.  That  Sovereign  was 
escorted  to  the  Tuileries  by  German  lancers, 
while  Russian  cossacks  lined  the  roads  to  the 
palace,  and  British  guards  stood  with  him  by 
the  throne.  Foreign  armies  were  camped  in 
and  around  Paris;  foreign  soldiers  and  officers 
were  billeted  on  its  inhabitants.  The  capital 
was  forced  to  feed  an  enemy — now  the  allies  of 
a  French  king  and  the  French  nobility.  There 
was  no  other  enemy  then  in  France  than  the 
poor  French  people  themselves,  and  oppression 
soon  took  the  place  of  liberty.  For  that  matter 
everybody  was  fatigued  with  wars,  the  country 
had  had  enough  of  glory,  and  the  people  were 
willing  to  support  despotism  if  by  doing  so 
they  could  be  assured  of  peace. 

But  that  plan  was  not  to  the  taste  of  the 
court,  the  nobles,  and  the  clergy.  First  Louis 
XVIII,  then  Charles  X  imposed  heavily  on  an 
already  distressed  nation.  Titles  and  privileges 
were  reestablished,  intolerable  taxes  were  en- 
forced, and  one  saw  in  Paris  only  processions, 
missions,  and  expiations/  performed  publicly 

1  The  only  monuments  raised  in  Paris  during  the 
restoration  were  three  churches,  two  bridges,  and  a 
tomb  called  the  Chapelle  Expiatoire,  and  this  tomb  is 
empty,  and  always  empty,  of  any  trace  of  royalty. 


332 


PARIS. 


by  priests,  monks,  and  bishops,  seemingly  with- 
out any  love  for  human  beings.  \  The  Emigres, 
those  of  the  nobility  and  gentry  who  had  de- 
serted to  the  enemy  and  had  served  against 
France,  were  permitted  to  return ;  while  as 
much  as  two  hundred  million  dollars  was  given 
them — taken  forcibly  from  the  people — "  in 
recompense " ;  yet  when  they  were  back  in 
Paris  they  treated  its  population  with  insolence, 
even  with  intolerant  tyranny.  It  was  then 
that  Charles  X  launched  his  famous  "  ordon- 
nances  bottees,"  and  once  again  Paris  was 
forced  to  buy  with  her  blood  the  liberty  of 
France.  It  was  only  an  affair  of  three  days, 
those  famous  "journees  de  Juillet,"  in  1830, 
but  Paris  won,  and  the  u  King  of  the  ^migr^s  " 
took  up  once  more  the  road  leading  to  a  foreign 
land. 

The  crown  which  had  fallen  was  picked  up 
and  placed  on  the  head  of  Louis  Philippe 
d' Orleans,  and  all  his  reign  was  a  period  of 
peace.  Paris  profited  by  this  fact  to  grow 
larger,  to  embellish  itself,  to  take  on  the  airs 
and  fashions  of  a  real  capital.  Considerable 
works,  such  as  bridges,  ports,  quays,  public 
squares,  public  fountains,  houses,  etc.,  were 
undertaken,  and  the  result  was  a  great  trans- 


AN  EGYPTIAN  OBELISK.  333 


formation  of  the  city,  although  not  so  great  as 
was  the  one  that  took  place  in  after  years. 

Under  Louis  Philippe,  the  Hotel  de  Ville 
was  enlarged  and  finished ;  the  Arc  de  Tri- 
omphe  was  completed ;  the  remains  of  Napo- 
leon I  were  brought  from  the  dismal  island 
of  Saint  Helena ;  the  obelisk  of  pink  granite, 
dating  from  the  days  of  Ranieses,  was  brought 
from  the  land  of  the  Nile  to  the  capital,  to  be 
erected  where  the  dreadful  guillotine  had  cut 
otf  so  many  heads  during  the  Reign  of  Terror. 

This  Paris  obelisk  is  not,  however,  one  of 
"  Cleopatra's  needles,"  so  called.  It  is  one  of 
two  monoliths  which  Rameses — better  known 
perhaps  by  his  Greek  title  of  Sesostris  the  Great 
— who  reigned  over  Egypt  fifteen  or  sixteen 
centuries  before  the  birth  of  Christ,  erected  in 
front  of  the  gate  of  the  Temple  that  his  great 
ancestor,  Amenhotep  III,  had  built  in  the  East- 
ern suburbs  of  Thebes.  Given  to  Louis 
Philippe  by  Mohammed  Ali  Pasha,  Viceroy  of 
Egypt,  a  vessel  was  sent  for  it  across  the  Medi- 
terranean, and  up  the  Nile  to  the  place  near 
where  it  stood,  the  poor  village  of  Luxor.  It 
was  a  difficult  task  to  bring  it  from  inland  to 
the  river's  edge,  then  to  load  it  on  the  vessel 
and  thence  to  convey  it  safely  to  the  Place  de 


334 


PABIS, 


la  Concorde.  But  though  it  is  one  single  piece 
of  stone  weighing  two  hundred  and  forty  tons, 
the  work  of  transfer  was  without  accident,  and 
the  expense  of  the  whole  undertaking  was  not 
more  than  two  hundred  thousand  dollars. 

To  Egyptologists  the  hieroglyphics  cut  in 
bas-relief  on  the  four  sides  of  that  obelisk  are 
as  clearly  understood  as  so  many  A  B  C's 
These  hieroglyphics  are  inscriptions ;  that  is  to 
say,  a  short  history,  celebrating  the  glory  of  the 
two  Kings  Rameses  II  and  III,  their  victories, 
their  piety,  etc.,  and  recalling  the  fact  that  it 
was  they  who  had  erected  this  magnificent 
monument  at  Thebes  in  honour  of  that  city's 
great  god,  to  whom  it  was  consecrated. 
This,  indeed,  was  the  real  intention  of  all  these 
singular  monuments  of  Egyptian  invention, 
colossal  grandeur,  and  eternal  duration. 

All  Egyptian  obelisks  are  monoliths,  a  word 
signifying  a  single  piece  of  stone.  They  were 
hewn  in  the  famous  quarries  of  Syene  or  As- 
souan, at  the  extreme  Southern  boundary  of 
Egypt,  the  barrier  between  that  country  and 
Nubia,  where  the  primitive  rock  forms  a  stony 
ledge  through  which  the  broad  stream  of  the 
K  ile  bounds  in  a  succession  of  boisterous  rapids, 
called  the  First  Cataract,  into  the  placid  valley 


COLONNE  DE  JTJILLET. 


335 


of  Upper  Egypt,  and  whence  it  is  seven  hun- 
dred and  fifty  miles  to  Alexandria,  as  the  crow 
flies. 

Time  and  space  and  bulk  are  bewildering 
when  we  contemplate  these  wonderful  obelisks. 
The  whole  number  ever  produced,  great  and 
small,  hardly  exceeds  fifty,  and  of  these  only 
fourteen  of  the  standing  monoliths  exceed  fifty 
feet  in  height.  These  fourteen  are  distributed 
between  five  countries  as  follows  :  five  at  Rome, 
two  in  France,  one  at  Constantinople,  one  at 
London,  one  at  New  York,  and  the  remaining 
four  in  Egypt. 

The  precedence  in  altitude  belongs  to  what 
is  known  as  Pharoah's  needle,  which  stands  be- 
fore the  church  of  St.  John  Lateran  at  Rome, 
which  is  one-hundred  five  feet,  seven  inches 
tall ;  the  one  at  Paris  measures  seventy-six 
feet,  six  inches;  the  one  on  the  Thames  Em- 
bankment, sixty-eight  feet,  five  inches ;  the  one 
at  New  York,  sixty-seven  feet,  two  inches. 

Straightway  East,  and  about  two  miles 
from  the  Luxor  monument  in  the  Place  de  la 
Concorde,  stands  a  monument  of  more  actual 
significance,  one  more  dear  to  the  hearts  of 
Parisians,  and  which  was  also  erected  during  the 
reign  of  Louis    Philippe.    The  Colonne  de 


336 


PARIS. 


Juillet  stands  where  the  Bastille  once  was,  and 
it  was  raised  in  1840.  It  bears  on  its  face,  in 
gilded  letters  graven  deep  on  bronze,  the  names 
of  those  who  perished  in  the  cause  of  liberty  in 
July,  1789. 

The  Bastille  Saint  Antoine,  elsewhere  re- 
ferred to  in  these  pages,  and  whose  downfall 
opened  the  era  of  the  French  Revolution,  was 
constructed  between  the  years  1371  and  1383, 
inclusive.  It  had  eight  great  round  towers, 
double  walls,  and  a  moat  eighty-three  feet  wide 
by  twenty-six  feet  deep;  nevertheless,  that 
powerful  prison  fortress  was  captured  and  de- 
stroyed by  the  populace  within  a  few  short  hours. 
One  of  its  stones  is  now  in  the  Carnavalet 
Museum ;  but  much  of  its  material  served  in 
building  a  bridge  at  the  Place  de  la  Concorde, 
and  its  key  was  given  by  Lafayette  to  George 
Washington.  It  now  hangs  in  one  of  the  rooms 
at  Mt.  Vernon. 

The  column  on  the  site  of  the  Bastille  is  of 
the  Corinthian  style  with  composite  capitals. 
It  rests  on  a  massive  sub-basement  of  white 
marble,  circular  in  form,  and  its  height  is  one 
hundred  and  fifty-three  feet,  not  counting  the 
colossal  Genius  of  Liberty  in  gilded  bronze 
which  surmounts  the  top.    There  is  a  winding 


POPULATION  INCKEASING.  337 


stair  inside,  of  two  hundred  and  forty  steps, 
leading  up  to  a  wide  gallery,  from  whence  a 
splendid  view  is  obtained. 

Meanwhile,  and  as  the  centuries  rolled  by, 
the  population  of  the  capital  kept  on  increas- 
ing ;  but  its  increase  of  size  in  superficial  area 
has  not  been  comparatively  so  great  as  with 
other  large  cities. 

During  the  reign  of  Henry  IV  there  were 
about  three  hundred  thousand  inhabitants; 
under  Louis  XIV  the  population  had  increased 
to  something  like  five  hundred  thousand ;  and 
when  the  Revolution  occurred  there  were 
perhaps  seven  hundred  thousand  souls  within 
the  city.  But  the  nineteenth  century  witnessed 
the  capital's  growth  from  eight  hundred  thou- 
sand souls  to  two  million  six  hundred  thousand, 
and  yet  there  are  fewer  houses  in  Paris  than  in 
Philadelphia,  a  city  which  can  hardly  boast 
one-third  so  many  inhabitants. 

As  the  capital  grew,  it  was  necessary  to 
create  new  streets  and  new  quartiers.  Under 
Louis  XV  Paris  counted  nearly  five  hundred 
rues,  one  hundred  public  places,  and  thirty- 
five  thousand  houses.  Then  the  city  walls  were 
demolished,  and  the  bastions  disappeared,  all 
except  those  on  the  Bastille,  which  remained 


338 


PAEIS. 


until  the  Revolution.  The  bastions  on  the 
northern  and  on  the  old  walls  to  the  south 
were  torn  down.  Then  the  moats  were  filled 
in  with  earth,  the  new  ground  was  planted 
with  grass  and  flower  seed,  and  the  quartiers 
on  the  left  bank  were  beautified.  A  circle  of 
avenues  around  the  University  was  planted 
with  trees,  and  the  boulevards  of  the  Invalides, 
of  Montparnesse,  of  Port  Royal,  of  Saint  Marcel 
and  of  l'Hopital  sprung  into  existence.  The 
enciente  of  that  side  of  town  included  the  old 
Faubourgs  of  Saint  Germain  and  of  the  Luxem- 
bourg, and  for  the  first  time  since  the  Romans, 
Paris  found  itself  deprived  of  all  ramparts. 
It  was  now  an  open  city,  with  a  superficial  area, 
all  within  its  boulevards,  of  about  two  thou- 
sand five  hundred  acres. 

In  1728  the  names  of  streets  were  placed  at 
all  the  corners,  and  houses  were  numbered  for 
the  first  time.  Some  sewers  were  dug,  but 
these,  like  the  grand  egout,  .which  followed  in 
a  stream  known  as  the  Menilmontant  that  no 
longer  exists,  were  all  uncovered.  They  were 
simply  canals,  rivieres  d^  ordures,  as  they  have 
been  called  since  then.  A  few  public  fountains 
were  constructed,  notably  the  beautiful  "  fon- 
taine  de  la  Rue  de  Grenelle,"  new  quays  were 


GAS  INTRODUCED. 


339 


built  on  both  sides  of  the  river,  and  already  the 
people  began  to  think  of  lighting  up  their  capi- 
tal. In  1688,  Louis  XIV  had  established 
some  lanterns  lighted  by  tallow  dips  in  many 
of  the  streets,  but  these  flickering  flames  did 
not  prevent  nocturnal  robberies  and  assassina- 
tions; the  celebrated  Cartouche  manoeuvered 
his  band  of  thieves  on  the  Pont  Neuf ,  the  very . 
centre  of  Paris,  and  despite  the  lanterns  and 
the  police,  so  late  as  1720.  Fifty  years  later 
these  insufficient  lights  were  replaced  by  lamps 
supplied  with  reflectors,  and  these  remained  in 
use  until  gas  was  introduced. 

The  use  of  gas  at  Paris  really  began  during 
the  reign  of  Louis  Philippe,  although  the 
lighting  of  the  capital  with  it  had  been  tried 
under  the  Restoration ;  but  it  was  not  until 
the  time  of  the  Citizen  King  that  night  was 
thus  vanquished.  The  city  was  not  then  so 
brilliantly  illuminated,  however,  as  it  is  now, 
although  a  great  deal  was  accomplished  in  that 
direction. 

Paris  is  in  most  respects  a  unique  city,  and 
certainly  one  of  the  chief  things  which  contri- 
butes especially  to  her  glory  is  the  intensity 
and  the  harmonious  variety  which  preside  over 
the  lighting  at  night  of  her  great  open  squares 


340 


PARIS. 


and  public  thoroughfares.  The  need  of  artifi- 
cial light  is  not  a  particularity  of  streets  and 
avenues,  however;  we  also  want  our  apart- 
ments and  houses  to  have  such  a  profusion  of 
it  that  our  ancestors,  who  to  illuminate  their 
nights  and  their  rooms  only  had  the  blaze  of  a 
smoky  tallow  dip,  would  be  greatly  aston- 
ished if  they  saw  the  gas  jets  and  the  electric 
lights,  so  intense  and  decorative,  of  the  present 
day. 

In  matters  of  artificial  lighting,  Paris  has 
maintained  the  advance  guard  of  progress. 
Never  have  other  capitals  equalled  it,  and  all 
foreigners  visiting  the  city  have  unbounded 
admiration  for  the  beautiful  lines  of  light,  and 
for  the  superb  candelabra  or  lamp-posts,  always 
cared  for  with  such  perfect  neatness,  which  are 
to  be  see  in  every  street. 

This  lighting  up,  which  plays  such  a  consid- 
erable rdle  in  the  life  of  the  great  capital,  has 
necessitated  the  construction  of  immense  manu- 
factories, wherein  many  trains  of  coal  are  used 
in  a  single  day;  while  under  ground  immense 
canalisations  have  been  constructed.  One 
company  alone  employs  ten  thousand  persons, 
possesses  nine  factories,  distills  per  annum 
more  than  one  million,  two  hundred  thousand 


THE  EXPENSE  CONSIDERABLE,  341 


tons  of  coal,  and  distributes  its  gas,  in  Paris 
and  some  few  of  the  suburban  communes, 
through  a  canalisation  of  mains  and  branch 
pipes  which  extend  for  over  one  thousand,  eight 
hundred  miles. 

When  this  company  was  formed,  the  price 
of  gas  for  public  lighting  was  fixed  at  three 
cents,  while  private  individuals  paid  six  cents 
the  metre ;  this  is  still  the  price  paid  for  gas  in 
Paris,  and  more  than  three  hundred  and  twenty 
million  of  cubic  metres  are  consumed  annually. 
Every  gas  metre  has  to  be  verified  and  marked 
by  city  officials  as  often  as  possible,  and  about 
fifty  thousand  are  thus  examined  annually. 
Only  water  gas  metres  are  used,  and  the  num- 
ber of  subscribers  in  the  company  referred  to 
exceeds  two  hundred  and  sixty-five  thousand 
to-day.  This  number  would  be  greatly  in- 
creased if  the  price  of  gas  were  lowered,  and 
if  the  accessory  expenses  were  brought  down 
to  reasonable  figures. 

In  most  cities  at  least  half  the  burners  are 
extinguished  through  economy  at  midnight, 
and  sometimes  when  the  moon  is  supposed  to 
bring  into  street  lighting  the  competition  of  its 
pale  beams,  only  a  few  burners  are  left  lighted. 
This  system  does  not  prevail  in  Paris,  however, 


342 


PARIS. 


and  throughout  the  streets,  avenues,  boulevards, 
and  other  open  spaces  of  the  capital,  more  than 
sixty-five  thousand  lamps  are  burning  the  night 
long.  Besides  these  gas  lamps,  there  are  a 
great  many  electric  lights  scattered  over  the 
city. 

The  Champs  Elysees  is  naturally  the  most 
brilliantly  illuminated  of  all,  but  the  main 
boulevards  and  the  principal  avenues  are  also 
splendidly  lighted,  and  on  the  whole  the  capi- 
tal is  undoubtedly  the  best-lighted  city  in  the 
world.  Gas  is  expensive,  however,  a  matter 
of  about  $2.04  per  thousand  cubic  feet  in  fact; 
while  it  is  only  about  $1.25  in  New  York  for 
the  same  amount.  It  is  true  the  city  of  Paris 
gets  all  its  gas  for  one-half  the  price,  that  is  to 
say,  about  $1.02  per  thousand  cubic  feet. 
Moreover,  Paris  shares  the  profits  made  by  the 
companies  which  supply  this  gas,  at  least  $3,- 
000,000  going  to  the  city  under  the  terms  of 
the  concession. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


The  So-called  walls  of  Paris — Their  use  and  their  use- 
lessness  —  The  era  of  Baron  Haussmann  —  Birth 
and  growth  of  the  "  Ville  Lumiere" — Beautiful 
public  gardens  and  broad  thoroughfares  —  The 
Buttes  Chaumont — Description  of  a  Paradise  for 
the  poorer  classes  —  The  Pare  Monceau — Once 
known  as  "  Philippe's  Folly/'  now  the  sweetest 
playfield  in  existence — The  trees  of  the  Capital 
and  their  cultivation — Millions  of  flower  plants 
set  out  in  the  Spring  and  early  Summer. 

Besides  the  credit  of  having  inaugurated  the 
first  railway,  of  having  had  the  nephew  of  an 
Emperor  and  son  of  a  King  tried  for  conspiracy* 
against  the  State  before  a  Court  of  Peers,  of 
having  brought  Napoleon's  remains  from  St. 
Helena,  of  having  erected  the  Colonne  de  Juil- 
let,  of  seizing  and  holding  Algeria,  and  of 
lighting  Paris  with  gas,  to  mention  only  a  few 
of  the  more  important  events, — the  "  Citizen 
King"  and  his  Government  are  also  responsible 
for  the  fortifications  which  still  surround  the 
capital. 


344 


PARIS, 


This  wall,  as  it  is  called  by  most  foreigners, 
is  impassible  only  to  peaceful  people,  for  any 
army  could  get  over  it,  or  batter  it  down  with- 
out much  trouble.  It  was  constructed  at  the 
instigation  of  Monsieur  Thiers,  who  was  then 
the  King's  advisor.  Here  and  there  are  portes 
or  gateways,  in  all  thirty-two  or  three,  through 
which  teams,  carriages,  tramcars,  and  persons 
may  come  into  or  go  out  from  the  great  city. 
For  defensive  purposes,  as  against  an  enemy, 
these  ditches  and  works  are  really  of  no  conse- 
quence; nevertheless,  just  outside  of  them  is  a 
military  zone,  which  is  as  much  under  the  con- 
trol of  the  war  department  as  any  part  of  the 
French  army. 

The  fortifications,  or  barriers,  serve  effectually 
for  the  octroi  service  of  the  city,  but  the  neces- 
sity of  the  military  zone  is  something  not  so 
easily  understood.  However,  these  dry  moats 
and  earth-covered  walls  are  now  and  then 
threatened  by  the  spades  and  picks  of  demoli- 
shes, for  the  talk  every  few  years  is  that  a  bill 
is  about  being  introduced  into  the  French  Par- 
liament, the  intent  of  which  is  to  suppress  the 
fortifications.  Twelve  or  fifteen  years  ago  it 
was  a  question  of  demolishing  them,  but  the 
Deputies  and  the  Government  officials  could 


A  WASTE  OF  MUCH  LAND.  345 


not  agree  as  to  the  better  way  of  going  about  it, 
and  so  it  was  permitted  to  rest  in  peace  among 
the  pigeon-holes  of  unfinished  business^ 

The  question  is  more  complex  than  one 
would  suppose,  and  it  is  difficult  to  decide  it 
one  way  or  the  other.  If  it  were  only  neces- 
sary to  consider  civil  interests  the  thing  would 
be  all  right  and  quickly  attended  to.  Everybody 
in  Paris  is  aware  of  the  inconvenience  which 
these  fortifications  create,  not  to  speak  of  the 
great  spaces  of  unprofitable  land  that  serve  only 
for  the  shanty  habitation  of  the  worst  prowlers 
in  Paris,  a  result  of  the  dense  overcrowding  of 
the  population,  and  which  brings  on,  with  the 
high  price  of  land,  an  increase  in  rents,  obstruc- 
tion of  streets,  elevation  of  houses,  deplorable 
urbaine  hygiene,  and,  to  crown  all,  continual 
troubles  in  the  relation  of  the  different  quarters 
of  Paris  with  the  really  large  towns  which  are 
growing  up  just  outside  the  city  walls. 

The  surface  occupied  by  the  military  grounds 
measures  close  on  to  one  thousand  and  fifty- 
five  acres,  the  zone  itself  is  one  thousand,  nine 
hundred  and  fifty  acres  at  the  least ;  fortifica- 
tions render  useless  more  than  four  million 
square  metres,  and  the  military  zone  more  than 
seven  million  square  metres  of  land :  counting 


346 


PAKIS. 


the  average  price  at  which  land  is  sold  in  the 
city,  it  is  easily  seen  that,  owing  to  these  bar- 
riers, a  colossal  fortune  is  not  being  used  at  all. 
This  is  an  immense  loss,  especially  for  a  popu- 
lation the  density  of  which  gives  to  each  Pari- 
sian a  superficial  space  of  only  about  one  hun- 
dred and  forty  feet.  If  we  take  into  account 
the  space  occupied  by  the  River  Seine,  the 
Champ  de  Mars,  the  Tuileries  gardens,  the 
Champs  ]^lysees,  and  the  other  promenades, 
also  the  quays,  streets,  boulevards,  railway 
stations,  and  government  warehouses,  this 
space  is  reduced  by  about  half  to  the  actual  sur- 
face for  each  individual.  There  are  parts  of 
town  where  Parisians  have  no  more  land  to  live 
on  than  that  accorded  them  for  their  last  sleep? 
which  is  two  metres. 

Moreover,  there  is  not  another  capital  any- 
where in  the  civilised  world  which  is  sur- 
rounded by  walls  or  fortifications.  London 
has  none,  nor  Berlin,  nor  Vienna,  nor  has  Paris 
always  had  them,  although  we  read  a  good  deal 
about  them  in  her  past  history.  Of  that  past 
enough  has  been  already  written ;  suffice  it  to 
say  here  that  Louis  XIV  gave  orders  to  have 
the  walls  pulled  down,  and  their  site  was  turned 
into  boulevards. 


LINE  OF  FORTIFICATIONS. 


347 


But  under  Louis  XVI,  and  in  1782,  a  new 
wall  was  constructed  which  enclosed  not  only 
the  capital,  but  several  suburban  villages  or 
faubourgs;  however,  that  was  done,  not  for 
defense,  but  to  facilitate  the  collection  of  the 
octroi,  or  duties  paid  on  all  articles  entering 
the  capital.  Then  in  1840  a  law  was  passed 
directing  the  construction  of  a  continuous  line  of 
fortifications  outside  that  wall,  and  consisting  of 
ninety-four  bastions  with  a  wide  ditch,  the  whole 
being  a  circumference  of  nearly  twenty  miles, 
and  which  cost  twenty-eight  million  dollars. 

The  old  octroi  wall  was  pulled  down  in  1860, 
and  the  line  of  fortifications  became  the  limit 
of  the  capital.  But  the  war  of  1870-71  demon- 
strated their  uselessness,  the  detached  forts 
which  formed  an  important  part  of  the  system 
having  alone  stood  the  whole  brunt  of  the  siege. 
Since  then  the  city  has  been  surrounded  by  a 
second  series  of  detached  forts,  at  a  distance  of 
from  ten  to  fifteen  miles  beyond  the  fortifica- 
tions; hence  these  latter,  beside  being  useless 
for  defensive  purposes,  impede  the  growth  of 
the  city  while  occupying  a  space  of  land 
worth  at  least  fifteen  million  dollars. 

No  changes  were  made  in  Paris  during  the 
Second  Republic,  but  that  regime  gave  univer- 


348 


PARIS. 


sal  suffrage  to  the  whole  of  France,  as  it  abol- 
ished slavery  in  all  the  French  possessions.  In 
one  way  universal  suffrage  was  a  mistake,  for 
it  enabled  Louis  Napoleon  to  assume  the  Presi- 
dential office ;  and  then  followed  the  coup 
d'etat.  The  stroke  delivered,  "the  Prince,"  as 
he  was  called,  was  acclaimed,  a  solemn  Te 
Deum  was  chanted  at  Notre  Dame,  and  the 
Second  Empire  was  established.  Then  Baron 
Haussmann's  reign  as  Prefect  of  the  Seine 
began,  and  under  his  administration  Paris  was 
made  the  ville  lumiere. 

The  era  of  Expositions  Universelles  also 
opened,  and  has  since  continued,  to  the  great 
good  of  everybody  throughout  the  earth.  In 
the  mean  time  Paris  was  enjoying  a  richly  gilded 
Court,  no  end  of  fetes,  a  Coronation,  an  Impe- 
rial baptism,  religious  processions,  and  military 
celebrations  after  French  victories  in  the  Crimea 
and  in  Italy.  That  entire  period  in  Paris 
might  well  be  termed  the  stone  age ;  for  never 
before,  or  elsewhere,  was  seen  so  much  building 
going  on.  The  jievre  de  la  truelle  had  seized 
on  the  city,  and  in  fifteen  years  the  capital  was 
transformed,  one  might  even  say  made  new. 
Everywhere  new  streets  new  avenues,  new 
boulevards,  new  quartiers.    Everywhere  trees 


CHANGES  OF  THE  IMPERIAL  PERIOD.  349 


implanted,  beautiful  squares  opened,  bridges 
and  quays  built,  sewers  constructed  and  foun- 
tains placed.  In  all  parts  of  Paris  new 
churches,  new  theatres,  new  barracks,  new 
markets,  new  mansions,  sumptuous  hotels  and 
great  apartment  houses  sprang  up.  The  Boule- 
vard Saint  Michel,  on  the  left  side  of  the 
river,  and  running  thence  South  to  the  observ- 
atory ;  the  Boulevard  du  Palais,  on  the  He  de 
la  Cite,  and  on  one  side  of  which  is  an  entrance 
to  the  Palace  of  Justice,  on  the  other  Police 
Headquarters;  the  Boulevards  of  Sebastopol 
and  of  Strasbourg  on  the  right  shore  of  the 
Seine — these  were  among  the  broad  avenues 
laid  out  by  Monsieur  Haussmann. 

Meanwhile  an  immense  quarter  was  being 
created  in  the  West  of  town.  The  Quartier 
des  Champs  Elysees,  from  the  Church  of  the 
Madeleine  to  the  Triumphal  Arch,  is  the 
quarter  of  the  rich  ;  it  is  wide,  full  of  trees  and 
shrubbery,  of  splendid  mansions,  and  elegant 
"  flats. "  It  quite  throws  in  the  shade  the 
equally  aristocratic  and  older  quartier  known 
as  the  Faubourg  Saint  Germain. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  mention  all  the 
transformations  which  Paris  underwent  during 
that  Imperial  period,  although  something  must 


350 


PAEIS. 


be  said  of  the  public  parks,  the  gardens  and  the 
squares,  which  were  then  created  or  remade,  and 
which  have  since  been  maintained  in  all  their 
beauty  by  the  Paris  authorities.  As  there 
are  more  than  one  hundred  and  thirty  of  these 
public  places — not  including  boulevards  and 
avenues,  in  themselves  splendid  promenades — 
w^e  shall  have  to  leave  many  of  them  un- 
described,  for  the  present  at  any  rate.  Their 
extent  is  quite  considerable,  there  are  two 
thousand  acres  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  and 
there  are  two  thousand,  two  hundred  acres  in 
the  Bois  de  Yincennes  alone.  There  is  not  a 
quarter  of  the  town  which  has  not  two  or  more 
of  public  gardens  in  it,  and  all  are  beautifully 
laid  out  and  handsomely  planted  with  trees, 
shrubbery  and  flowers.  Most  of  this  park  and 
place  adornment  has  been  done  within  the  past 
thirty  years ;  still,  Paris  was  always  famous  for 
its  many  landscape  beauties. 

Among  the  older  spots  is  the  little  garden  of 
the  Tour  Saint  Jacques,  already  spoken  of. 
The  Jardin  du  Temple,  on  the  street  of  that 
name,  was  laid  out  at  almost  the  same  period 
as  the  one  of  Saint  Jacques.  Like  most  Paris 
gardens,  that  of  the  Temple  has  its  own 
peculiar  class  of  habitues  and  it  is  one  of  the 


BEAUTIFUL  PUBLIC  GARDENS. 


351 


handsomest  of  the  smaller  squares  of  the  capital, 
even  though  it  is  located  in  an  inferior  part  of 
town.  Shut  in  by  tall  houses  on  three  sides, 
and,  on  the  fourth,  by  the  long  f  a£ade  of  the 
National  Library,  is  an  unpretentious  square, 
with  a  few  flower-beds,  and  a  small  stretch  of 
green  lawn,  while  in  the  centre  of  it  is  a  hand- 
some bronze  fountain.  This  Place  Louvois 
was  formed  by  the  pulling  down  of  the  Opera 
House  in  which  the  Duke  du  Berri  was  assas- 
sinated. 

In  front  of  the  Conservatoire  des  Arts  et 
Metiers  is  a  large  garden,  with  fine  old  horse- 
chestnuts  and  plenty  of  pretty  flower-beds. 
The  scions  of  the  aristocratic  families  of  the 
Faubourg  Saint  Germain  have  a  favourite  play- 
ground in  front  of  the  Church  of  Sainte 
Clothilde,  a  Gothic  edifice  with  two  spires,  not 
far  from  the  Palais  Bourbon.  But  the  open- 
ing of  the  Boulevard  St.  Germain  greatly 
changed  the  aspect  of  that  quartier,  and  many 
of  its  old  eighteenth  century  houses  disap- 
peared before  the  picks  and  spades  of  the 
modern  improvers.  However,  in  the  Rues  de 
Grenelle,  de  Bellechasse,  de  l'Universite,  de 
Varennes,  and  other  streets  that  could  be  named, 
there  are  fine  mansions  which  are  hidden  from 


352 


PARIS. 


public  view  by  high  walls  that  enclose  parks 
and  gardens  of  great  size. 

Between  1858  and  1865  a  number  of  new 
squares  and  gardens  were  laid  out  by  Baron 
Haussmann.  Close  to  the  Halles  Centrales, 
or  main  market  houses,  is  a  pretty  garden 
occupying  in  part  the  site  of  an  old  cemetery. 
The  founding  of  the  Church  of  Saints  Inno- 
cents, in  the  Rue  Saint  Denis,  near  the  corner 
of  the  Rue  aux  Fers,  was  due  to  the  conduct 
of  certain  Jews  in  that  neighbourhood.  They 
had  killed  a  young  man  who  reviled  their  race 
and  religion;  after  his  death  he  performed 
miracles,  whereupon  the  pious  public  erected  a 
sacred  edifice  on  the  place  toward  the  close  of 
the  twelfth  century,  and  around  this  new 
church  a  cemetery  was  soon  formed.  Two 
centuries  later  a  gallery  called  les  cliarniers,  a 
gloomy,  damp  gallery  paved  with  funeral 
stones  and  filled  with  tombs,  was  constructed. 
Afterwards  other  galleries  were  made  for  this 
"  Charnier  des  Innocents,"  and  in  these  vaulted, 
dismal,  subterranean  halls  many  famous 
Parisians  were  laid  away. 

Before  the  Revolution  the  cemetery  and 
charniers  were  destroyed,  all  the  human  bones 
which  had  been  accumulating  during  five  or 


OLD  FOUNTAIN  DES  INNOCENTS. 


PAKK  OP  THE  BTJTTES  CHAUMONT.  353 


six  hundred  years  were  gathered  up,  and  the 
Church  itself  was  demolished.  Meanwhile, 
however,  indeed  a  long  while  before  this,  a 
fountain  had  been  erected  in  the  place ;  it  was 
the  joint  work  of  Pierre  Lescot  and  Jean  Grou- 
jon. 

When  the  cemetery  was  suppressed  this  de- 
lightful monument  was  carefully  taken  up  and 
carried  to  the  centre  of  the  new  marketplace, 
where  it  remained  until  the  creation  of  the 
Boulevard  de  Sebastopol,  and  the  enlarging  of 
the  market  made  it  necessary  to  remove  it  once 
more.  In  1788  the  Marche  des  Innocents  was 
fully  established,  and  soon  that  quasi-aristo- 
cratic group  of  women  known  in  the  history  of 
Paris  as  the  "  Dames  de  la  Halle  "  had  grown 
up  to  be  another  power  in  the  capital. 

The  children  of  the  rich  had  the  Tuileries 
Garden  and  Pare  Monceau  in  which  to  sport 
amidst  the  freshness  of  Nature ;  and  so  it  be- 
came necessary  that  children  of  the  poor  should 
have  their  square  on  the  Buttes  of  Chaumont. 

Commenced  in  1862  under  the  Empire,  the 
Park  of  the  Buttes  Chaumont  was  not  finished 
until  at  the  time  of  the  Exposition  in  1867,  but 
it  has  been  greatly  embellished  since  then. 
This  promenade  which   occupies  a  superficial 


354 


PARIS. 


area  of  forty  acres  is  in  the  form  of  a  crescent 
the  two  extremities  of  which  terminate  in  the 
Rues  de  Crimee  and  de  Puebla.  In  the  space 
embraced  between  these  two  curves,  the  de- 
signers have  made  fine  use  of  the  rises  of  the 
ground ;  at  one  time  in  the  form  of  soft  mounds, 
at  others  covered  with  groups  of  emerald  where 
trees,  flowers,  and  clear  water  distribute  shade 
and  freshness  in  great  profusion.  A  running 
stream  passes  under  a  bridge  and  loses  itself  in 
a  grotto  of  Cyclopean  proportions,  the  vaults  of 
which  measure  seventy  feet  from  base  to  sum- 
mit; stalactites  from  twenty-four  to  twenty- 
seven  feet  long  hang  down  from  the  top  of  this 
grotto ;  whilst  elsewhere  a  cascade  of  consider- 
able volume  roars  through  large  rocks  and 
feeds  the  river  which  empties  itself  into  a  round 
lake.  In  the  middle  of  the  lake  rises  a  real 
cliff  which  appears  as  though  it  had  been 
carried  away  from  some  seashore,  and  which  is 
united  to  the  crater  of  the  hill,  whence  gushes 
a  cataract,  by  a  stone  bridge  the  only  arch  of 
which  is  more  than  sixty  feet  above  the  water. 
At  the  summit  of  this  cliff  stands  an  open  ro- 
tunda, built  in  the  Greek  style,  of  an  entable- 
ment and  a  crown  supported  by  eight  Corinthian 
columns. 


PARADISE  FOR  POOR  PEOPLE, 


355 


A  second  bridge  passes  over  the  line  of  the 
Metropolitan  Railway  at  a  place  where  the 
park  borders  the  Rue  de  Crimee.  There  is  also 
another  bridge  established  over  a  thoroughfare 
so  as  to  give  access  to  the  Rue  Fessart  which 
passes  through  the  huttes.  A  wonderful  hori- 
zon unfolds  itself  when  looking  from  the  cul- 
minating points  of  this  Park,  hundreds  of 
burghs  and  verdant  villas  ranging  themselves 
one  above  the  other  in  an  endless  circle. 

Paris  itself  lies  stretched  out  below  ;  and  this 
is  the  Paradise  of  the  poor  people  of  the  capi- 
tal. One  should  see  the  little  children  in  the 
arms  of  their  mothers,  in  blue  and  black  aprons, 
playing  in  the  sun,  which  seems  here  to  shine 
for  everybody,  and  lying  on  the  ground  or 
rolling;  themselves  in  the  sand  with  the  remains 
of  what  had  once  been  toy  wheelbarrows.  Older 
•urchins  speak  to  the  pebbles  in  a  simple 
language  of  their  own.  Those  children  do  not 
yet  know  that  the  sand  with  which  they  are 
amusing  themselves,  or  that  the  earth  out  of 
which  they  are  making  mud  pies,  was  reddened 
with  the  blood  of  many  victims  in  former  days. 
For  it  was  on  that  spot  that  the  Gibbet  of 
Montfaugon  was  erected. 

First  of  all,  in  the  year  855,  the  Butte  of 


356 


PARIS. 


Mont  Chauve  (Calvus  mons)  was  the  theatre  of 
a  fierce  battle  waged  against  the  Norman  in- 
vaders by  Count  Eudes,  Governor  of  Paris. 
It  was  a  terrible  day ;  thousands  of  the  enemy 
bestrewed  the  ground,  while  of  the  Paris  militia 
almost  as  many  fell. 

Five  centuries  afterward,  Enguerrand  de 
Marigny,  Minister  of  Philippe  le  Bel,  set  up 
the  first  Gibbet  of  Montfaugon,  so-called  from 
the  name  of  Lord  Falco  who  occupied  a  large 
residence  at  the  summit  of  the  knoll.  Like  Dr. 
Guillotin,  and  most  inventors  of  capital  punish- 
ment instruments,  first  Enguerrand,  and  then 
Pierre  de  Brosse  and  Pierre  Remy,  who  had 
perfected  the  gibbet,  were  victims  to  their  own 
machine.  The  three  of  them  were  hanged,  and 
referring  to  the  subject,  Mezeray,  the  historian, 
says :  "  They  had  the  honour  of  being  placed  on 
high,  above  all  other  thieves.' ' 

Living  persons  were  also  buried  under  the 
gallows,  and  it  is  related  that  in  1440,  Jean- 
nette,  the  bonne  Valette,  and  three  other 
women  underwent  the  same  chastisement  for 
certain  demerits,  after  which  they  were  thrown 
into  a  hole  seven  feet  long. 

Despite  these  monstrous  customs,  religious 
pity  did  not  give  up  its  rights,  and  before  be- 


A  SINISTER  DRAMA. 


ing  led  to  the  scaffold,  the  unfortunate  crea- 
tures were  compelled  to  pass  the  Convent  of  the 
Filles  Dieu,  which  stood  on  the  site  now  occu- 
pied by  the  Passage  de  Caire.  The  condemned 
man  alighted  from  the  waggon  at  the  door  of  the 
Monastery,  the  Superioress  came  to  receive  him 
candle  in  hand;  then,  after  having  given  him 
the  Crucifix  to  kiss,  she  handed  him  three 
pieces  of  bread  and  a  glass  of  wine — this  was 
called  the  "repas  du  patient."  That  convent, 
founded  by  William  III,  Bishop  of  Paris  in 
the  thirteenth  Century,  was  suppressed  at  the 
time  of  the  Revolution,  on  the  grounds  that  it 
received  no  one  into  it  unless  the  applicant 
should  furnish  proofs  of  moral  weaknesses. 

In  1527,  the  gibbet  gathered  in  a  noble  prey, 
none  other  than  J acques  de  Sambla^ay,  Super- 
intendent of  Finances  under  Charles  VIII, 
Louis  XII,  and  Frangois  I. 

On  August  28,  1572,  Montfaucon  saw  a 
still  more  sinister  drama  enacted  on  its  heights. 
Admiral  de  Coligni  was  hung  up  by  his  feet, 
having  been  beheaded  the  evening  before,  and 
Catherine  de  Medicis,  accompanied  by  her  son 
and  all  the  court,  went  there  to  insult  his 
corpse. 

In  1761  the  gallows  was  transferred  to  the 


358 


PARIS. 


foot  of  the  Buttes  Chaumont,  but  there  had 
been  enougli  atrocities  perpetrated.  The  vic- 
tims cried  out  for  vengeance,  the  Charnel 
House  was  full,  and  so  the  Revolution  pulled 
the  scaffold  down. 

On  the  30th  of  March,  1814,  a  battle  took 
place  around  the  hill ;  that  was  when  Napoleon's 
army  was  trying  to  repulse  the  allied  forces, 
and  were  defeated,  for  Bonaparte  was  absent  at 
the  time. 

The  Buttes  Chaumont  is,  undoubtedly,  a 
beautiful  park,  arranged  for  the  benefit  of  the 
poorer  classes,  and  there  is  a  similar  but  smaller 
park  in  another  part  of  town,  that  of  Mont 
Louis ;  however,  the  handsomest  garden  of  all 
in  Paris  is  the  Pare  Monceau.  Originally  laid 
out  and  planted  by  the  Due  d7  Orleans  in 
1778,  it  was  long  known  as  "  Philippe's  Folie  "  ; 
it  was  larger  then  than  it  is  now,  and  was  the 
favourite  promenade  of  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau. 
The  property  changed  owners  several  times 
during  and  subsequent  to  the  Revolution,  but 
it  was  finally  restored  to  the  Orleans  family, 
and  Louis  Philippe  spent  a  large  sum  embel- 
lishing it. 

In  1852  the  park  was  confiscated,  and  about 
one-half  of  the  land  was  sold  for  building  lots, 


THE  PARC  MONCEAU. 


359 


on  which  were  erected  some  of  the  finest  private 
residences  in  the  capital.  The  rest  o£  the 
grounds  became  the  property  of  the  city,  and  it 
is  to-day  one  of  the  most  beautiful  parks  in  ex- 
istence. The  grounds  are  rather  those  of  a 
garden  than  a  park ;  however,  they  are  so  de- 
lightfully varied  in  all  their  parts,  so  bright 
and  green,  so  interesting  with  everchanging 
vegetation,  so  stored  with  new  or  rare,  neg- 
lected, forgotten  or  curious  plants,  that  I  have 
always  looked  on  the  Pare  Monceau  as  one  of 
the  fairest  garden  spots  on  earth,  as  it  also  is 
one  of  the  sweetest  playfields  for  young  chil- 
dren m  existence. 

There  are  some  curious  legends  connected 
with  the  lovely  park  of  Monceau.  Near  a  cer- 
tain grotto  is  a  kind  of  pyramid  called  the 
u  gambler's  grave."  It  is  said  that  during  a 
night  of  wild  spreeing  the  Duke  of  Orleans 
quarrelled  with  one  of  his  companions  at"  play, 
and  gave  him  such  a  blow  that  the  man  died 
immediately.  The  murder  was  kept  secret, 
and  the  victim  was  buried  where  the  pyramid 
now  stands.  This  "  gambler's  grave,"  a  grace- 
ful little  bridge,  here  and  there  a  few  splendid 
statues,  several  large  vases  filled  with  flowers, 
and,  above  all,  a  delicious  naumachia,  whose 


360 


PAEIS. 


ivy-covered  pillars  with  their  finely  wrought 
capitals  are  reflected  in  the  waters  of  a  small 
lake,  are  the  principal  ornaments  of  the 
park. 

In  all  times  trees  have  been  subject  to  spe- 
cial cultivation  on  the  part  of  the  population  of 
Paris.  One  of  the  most  famous  was  an  elm, 
which  used  to  stand  in  front  of  the  Church  of 
St.  Gervais  ;  then  there  is  the  elm  of  the  estab- 
lishment for  the  Deaf  and  Dumb  in  the  Rue 
St.  Jacques,  a  veritable  giant,  whose  head 
rises  high  above  all  the  surrounding  buildings. 
The  chestnut  tree  of  the  20th  of  March,  in  the 
garden  of  the  Tuileries,  may  also  be  mentioned, 
while  upon  the  hillock  of  the  Jardin  des  Plantes 
rises  the  Cedar  of  Lebanon  which  the  natural- 
ist Jussieu  is  said  to  have  brought  to  Paris  in 
his  travelling  hat.  Nor  must  it  be  forgotten 
that  it  was  from  one  of  the  trees  of  the  Palais 
Royal  that  Camille  Desmoulins  plucked  the 
leaf  which  became  a  green  cockade  and  rally- 
ing sign  for  the  combatants  of  those  who  took 
the  Bastille. 

Outside  of  these  venerable  ancestors  a  real 
forest  vegetates  in  Paris.  Counting  the  plan- 
tations of  the  public  streets,  the  communal 
establishments,  and  the  cemeteries,  there  are 


CULTIVATION  OF  TREES.  361 


not  less  than  120,000  trees  in  line  within  the 
fortifications  ;  this  does  not  include  the  trees 
found  in  private  gardens,  so  vast  and  numer- 
ous in  certain  aristocratic  quarters,  nor  even 
those  of  the  public  gardens.  And  note  this 
further  fact  that  outside  the  public  ways 
there  exists  inside  the  capital,  in  the  form 
of  parks,  gardens  and  public  squares,  a  total 
service  of  about  four  thousand  acres.  Neverthe- 
less, it  is  not  an  easy  thing  to  assure  the  life  of 
trees  in  Paris.  A  soil  impregnated  with  infil- 
trations of  gas,  and  an  air  charged  with  the 
smoke  of  factories,  are  the  surroundings  in 
which  those  poor  transplanted  bits  of  vegetation 
pass  a  living  death.  The  elms  of  the  boule- 
vards and  of  the  public  gardens  readily  fall 
victims  to  that  terrible  microbe,  the  scolyte, 
which  furtively  introduces  itself  between  the 
trunk  and  the  bark  and  devours  the  tree  until 
death  follows.  This  is  why  more  durable 
kinds  have  been  chosen,  and  the  elm  is  being 
replaced  by  foreign  species  of  vegetation. 

It  is  not  without  enormous  expense  that  the 
city  of  Paris  forms  and  takes  care  of  these 
plantations.  A  trench  is  dug,  which  is  filled 
with  vegetable  earth,  so  as  to  create  an  artifi- 
cial soil  wherein  the  root  can  develop  without 


362 


PARIS. 


hindrance.  Then  comes  the  question  of  water- 
ing. At  the  foot  of  the  tree  a  deep  basin  is 
made,  this  is  covered  with  a  grating  so  that  the 
soil  may  always  remain  permeable ;  then  when 
the  roots  are  extended,  water  reaches  them 
by  a  system  of  drains,  which  communicate  with 
sewer  branches,  and  which  drains  can  be  closed 
at  will,  by  means  of  valves. 

But  the  Parisian  tree  has  still  another  enemy, 
that  of  gas,  the  leakage  of  which  finishes  it  by 
emaciating  it  and  causing  it  to  die.  Care  has 
therefore  been  taken  to  envelop  the  gas  pipes 
and  branches  in  a  sort  of  drainage  which  has 
communications  with  the  outside  air.  Thanks 
to  all  these  cares,  it  has  been  possible  to  endow 
Paris  with  plantations  which  contribute  as 
much  to  its  ornamentation  as  to  its  salubrity. 
These  operations  bring  the  price  of  each  tree 
to  the  relatively  high  sum  of  forty  dollars. 
Besides  trees  there  are  plants  and  flowers 
scattered  profusely  throughout  the  town. 
"When  it  is  time  for  Paris  to  take  off  her  winter 
toilet  and  make  her  appearance  in  spring  attire 
it  requires  nearly  one  million  flower  plants,  and 
these  are  distributed  by  hundreds  of  gardeners 
and  their  assistants.  The  total  number  of 
plants  often    employed   at  one  time  for  the 


SCIENTIFIC    HORTICULTURE.  363 


toilet  of  the  capital  is  about  two  millions.  The 
nurseries  which  produce  them  are  situated  in 
various  parts  of  the  city  or  its  immediate 
suburbs.  In  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  near  the 
racecourse  of  Longchamp,  are  the  nursery 
grounds  of  trees  with  caducous  leaves. 

At  Auteuil,  on  the  road  to  the  village  of 
Boulogne,  in  a  sandy  soil,  excellent  for  their 
propagation,  are  placed  a  collection  of  resinous 
trees,  plants  with  persistent  leaves,  and  heath- 
mould  plants.  On  the  banks  of  the  River 
Marne,  at  a  village  called  Petit-Buy,  the  plane 
trees  which  are  planted  along  the  boulevards 
are  cultivated ;  and,  finally,  out  at  Vincennes  a 
large  assignment  of  land  is  reserved  for  orna- 
mental plants.  The  central  establishment,  near 
La  Muette,  at  Passy,  is  one  of  the  most  con- 
siderable horticultural  laboratories  in  the 
world,  and  has  thirty  conservatories.  Immense 
cellars  lit  by  gas  form  the  depository  of  tuber- 
cular plants  during  the  winter,  and  there  are 
special  hothouses  for  larger  species.  One  is 
set  aside  for  palm  trees,  while  others  are  for 
plants  with  abundant  foliage. 

It  is,  of  course,  necessary  to  study  the  particu- 
lar nature  of  the  soil  of  each  square  or  garden 
so  as  to  plant  those  trees  that  are  best  suited 


364 


PARIS. 


to  it.  Where  the  land  is  rich  and  deep,  trees 
from  Virginia,  oaks  from  North  Carolina,  and 
trees  with  persistent  leaves  can  be  implanted 
successfully,  while  in  a  shady  piece  of  land  that 
is  porous  and  filled  with  young  roots,  large 
resinous  plants  from  the  temperate  zones  of  the 
globe  will  flourish  best. 

But  the  flora  of  Europe,  Asia  and  temperate 
America  are  no  longer  sufficient,  and  delicate 
plants  and  trees  from  the  torrid  zones  are  used. 
These  plants  must  be  brought  to  forget  their 
natal  well-being,  and  by  a  sort  of  divination, 
as  though  they  had  not  been  seen,  the  site  and 
soil  where  they  were  born  has  to  be  produced 
artificially  ;  for  as  many  of  them  must  bud  and 
flower  in  a  climate  different  from  their  own, 
the  sun  and  warm  shade  of  the  tropical  forest 
is  supplied  to  them  by  artificial  means. 


Paris  :  Past  and  Present 

Volume  II 


PART  ONE. 

"  And  Statesmen  at  her  council  met 
Who  knew  the  seasons." 

[Tennysoist. 


VOLUME  TWO. 


CHAPTER  I. 

View  from  the  Arc  du  Carrousel— Two  pretty  little 
gardens  close  to  the  Louvre — The  Jardin  des  Tui- 
leries — Place  de  la  Concorde — The  Champs 
Elysees — Its  origin  and  present  appearance — Why 
the  Cours  la  Reine  was  constructed — Modern  life 
in  the  Elysian  fields — A  vista  without  a  rival — 
Flowering  plants  and  playing  fountains — An  at- 
tractive promenade  on  Sundays — The  Wide 
Avenue  leading  up  to  the  Arch  of  Triumph — A 
field  for  philosophical  observation. 

A  fine  spot  from  whence  to  obtain  a  first 
impression  of  Paris,  especially  of  the  capital 
between  the  old  Louvre  Palace  and  the  great 
Arch  of  Triumph,  is  from  the  top  of  the 
Napoleonic  arch  in  the  Place  du  Carrousel. 
The  view  seen  thence,  full  as  it  is  of  trees  and 
statues,  of  mansions,  art  buildings,  and  splashing 
fountains,  and  stretching  away  for  a  mile  or 
more,  is  indeed  remarkable. 


4 


PAKIS. 


The  outlook  begins  with  two  pretty  little 
gardens  in  a  narrow  open  space  between  those 
wings  of  the  Louvre  that  are  occupied  on  one 
side  by  the  Ministry  of  Finances,  on  the  other 
by  the  National  Gallery  of  Fine  Arts.  Then 
comes  the  large  square  of  the  Carrousel ;  next, 
a  handsome  garden  which  covers  the  ground 
where  the  Palais  des  Tuileries  once  stood ;  after 
that  it  is  the  famous  Jardin  des  Tuileries ;  and 
thence,  seen  across  the  Place  de  la  Concorde, 
through  the  trees  and  promenade  of  the  Champs 
Elysees,  it  is  an  immense  perspective  slowly 
rising  and  gloriously  terminating  with  the  Tri- 
umphal Arch.  All  the  details  of  this  wonder- 
ful picture  are  ravishing,  the  ensemble  being  of 
unequalled  grace  and  grandeur. 

In  a  unique  position,  near  the  River  Seine, 
between  the  Tuileries  Garden  and  the  shaded 
promenades  of  the  Champs  Elysees,  with  the 
Navy  Department,  the  Church  of  the  Madeleine, 
and  one  of  the  finest  Club  houses  in  Paris  on 
the  right,  and  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  and  the 
Speaker's  Mansion  on  its  other  side,  though 
across  the  river,  opens  out  that  open  square  of 
the  capital  known  as  the  Place  de  la  Concorde. 
It  is  the  most  admirable  public  place  in  Europe, 
but  it  is  almost  wholly  a  creation  of  compara- 


PLACE  DE  LA  CONCORDE. 


5 


tively  recent  years.  Two  centuries  ago  in  the 
middle  of  the  horseshoe-shaped  termination  of 
the  Tuileries  Garden  there  was  a  drawbridge, 
by  means  of  which  that  park  was  placed  in 
communication  with  the  Cours  la  Heine  and  the 
Champs  ]£lysees,  and  the  space  between  this 
bridge  and  the  broad  avenue  was  a  public 
resort  for  everybody.  Then  it  was  surrounded 
by  ditches  and  a  stone  balustrade,  while  in  the 
middle  stood  a  bronze  equestrian  statue  of 
Louis  XV.  The  King  was  dressed  in  the 
Roman  style,  the  figure  was  fifteen  feet  high 
from  head  to  foot,  that  being  also  the  length  of 
the  horse  on  which  he  was  mounted.  At  each 
of  the  four  corners  of  the  square  wrere  two 
small  pavilions  which  were  intended  to  form 
pedestals  for  eight  allegorical  figures;  many 
years  afterward  this  project  was  completed  by 
the  erection  of  eight  colossal  figures,  each 
emblematical  of  the  larger  cities  of  France. 
The  equestrian  statue  soon  disappeared,  its 
place  was  taken  by  one  of  Liberty,  and  the 
latter  witnessed  some  strange  events  before  it 
too  was  torn  down. 

The  Place  de  la  Concorde  was  originally  called 
the  Place  Louis  XV,  and  after  that  the  Place 
de  la  Revolution.    The  aim  of  its  architects, 


6 


PARIS, 


as  it  was  also  of  the  authorities  who  ordered 
its  creation,  was  that  everything  should  be 
avoided  which  might  recall  the  terrible  scenes 
of  which  the  spot  had  been  the  theatre  in  past 
times.  In  its  centre  stands  the  obelisk  which 
has  already  been  described,  midway  between 
two  very  large  and  remarkably  beautiful 
fountains ;  while  at  each  of  its  four  corners  are 
two  colossal  figures  emblematical  of  French 
cities.  One  of  these,  that  of  Strasbourg — for 
Strasbourg  belonged  to  France  when  this 
statue  was  made — is  always  draped  in  mourn- 
ing, and  half  buried  under  wreaths  of  immor- 
telles. 

In  front  of  the  obelisk,  which  stands  where 
the  guillotine  cut  oif  so  many  heads,  stretches 
a  wide  piece  of  land,  mainly  a  vista  of  trees, 
and  which,  unlike  those  in  the  Tuileries  Garden, 
are  not  enclosed  by  thick  stone  walls  and  stout 
iron  railings;  and  this  vast  open  place,  so  justly 
called  Champs  ^lysees,  or  Elysian  Fields,  is 
perhaps  the  one  great  feature  to  all  newcomers 
of  the  splendid  capital.  It  is  not  precisely  a 
new  thing  in  Paris,  for  its  present  form  dates 
back  several  years,  but  it  is  always  so  fresh 
and  genial  and  attractive  that  it  seems  born 
but  yesterday.    It  is  a  large  body  of  ground, 


IX  THE  CHAMPS  ELYSEES. 


7 


planted  profusely  with  trees,  shrubbery,  and 
flowers,  limited  only  on  the  south  by  the  River 
Seine  and  the  Cours  la  Reiue,  and  on  the  north 
by  the  Avenue  Gabrielle,  on  the  other  side  of 
which  are  the  park  and  mansion  of  the  British 
Ambassador,  the  gardens  and  palace  of  the 
President  of  the  Republic,  and  the  private  prop- 
erties of  two  or  three  rich  noblemen.  To  the 
east  of  it  lies  the  Place  de  la  Concorde ;  while 
on  the  west  is  the  Rond  Point,  and  different 
broad  avenues. 

From  the  Place  de  la  Concorde  and  the 
marble  horses  of  Marly,  through  the  centre  of 
these  Elysian  Fields  runs  the  magnificent 
Avenue  of  the  Champs  lilysees,  westward  to 
the  great  Arc  de  l'^toile.  This  great  "  Com- 
mon," or  public  promenade  and  playground, 
was  in  olden  times  covered  with  vegetable 
gardens,  meadows,  rabbit  warrens,  and  fields, 
with  here  and  there  a  house,  and  thereby  hangs 
a  story. 

In  the  year  1616,  Marie  de  Medicis,  seeking 
every  means  possible  to  lessen  her  griefs  as  a 
widow,  and  very  fond  of  getting  rid  of  the  sav- 
ings of  Henri  IV,  had  traced  out  and  planted 
for  herself  and  her  courtiers  a  promenade  be- 
tween the  river  and  the  Champs  l^lysees  to 


8 


PARIS. 


which  was  given  the  name  Cours  la  Heine  that 
it  still  bears.  To  it  the  Dukes  of  Guise  and  of 
Nevers,  the  Concini,  the  JCpernons,  who  not 
else  of  the  aristocracy,  came  to  surround  the 
Regent,  all  of  them  robed  in  those  brilliant 
costumes  which  had  replaced  the  more  sombre 
attire  that  had  been  a  la  mode  during  the  pre- 
ceding reign.  Men  wearing  close-coats  of  satin, 
small  clothes  or  trunks  mostly  of  scarlet  colour, 
velvet  cloaks,  large  boots,  and  long  spurs  of 
gold,  with  their  hair  in  rivulets,  their  moustaches 
well  waxed,  their  felt  hats  shaded  with  fine 
feathers,  their  rich  aiguilletes  and  their  duel- 
ling swords ;  and  women  on  litters  in  robes  of 
silk  embroidered  with  gold  or  silver,  wearing 
large  stiff  collarettes,  red  ribbons  called  assas- 
sines,  their  lovely  shoulders  uncovered  very 
low  down,  both  back  and  front,  and  their  pretty 
faces  usually  hidden  behind  black  masques, 
— were  in  this  aristocracy.  Entrance  to  the 
Cours  la  Heine  was  forbidden  to  all  those  who 
wore  woollen  habits,  or  stockings  of  black 
worsted,  or  cloth  hoods.  In  brief,  the  Regent's 
stroll  was  no  place  for  the  common  people,  who 
could  "Allez  vous  promener"  elsewhere — on 
the  Pont  Neuf,  for  instance.  They  might  not 
enter  the  Jardin  des  Tuileries  either,  for  that 


THE  COURS  LA  HEINE. 


9 


matter,  as  there  was  an  order  posted  up,  "  Les 
chiens  et  le  peuple  n'entrent  pas,"  to  prevent 
them.  This  garden  and  this  cours  was  each  an 
outdoor  salon  where  the  chosen  few  jested, 
flirted,  talked  of  love,  or  gossiped  the  news 
of  the  fleeting  hours.  They  criticised,  dis- 
puted, and  decided.  They  all  tried  to  deceive 
each  other,  and  in  one  way  or  another  they 
probably  had  a  very  good  time,  from  their 
point  of  view. 

But  awhile  later  there  was  no  longer  any 
need  of  the  people  confining  themselves  to  the 
Pont  Neuf,  or  elsewhere  in  the  upper  part  of 
the  city;  for  the  Champs  IClysees  had  been 
prepared  for  them  by  Louis  XIV.  A  Cours 
du  Peuple  had  come  and  planted  itself  along- 
side of  the  Cours  la  Reine,  and  it  soon  became 
a  popular  resort  for  middle-class  Parisians. 
One  was  the  rendezvous  of  the  rich  ;  the  other, 
of  the  bourgeoise  and  poor.  One  was  for  idlers 
and  noblemen ;  the  other,  for  workers  and 
artisans.  One  harboured  grande  dames;  and 
the  other,  grisettes,  and,  so  far  as  could  be 
seen,  the  only  difference  between  these  two 
last  mentioned  classes  was  that  one  kind  were 
afoot  and  the  other  in  carriages. 

The    Champs  ^lysees,  like   the  Tuileries 


10 


PAEIS. 


Garden,  was  still  a  part  of  the  Crown's  domain ; 
but  in  1792  it  was  transferred  to  the  state,  and 
in  1828  it  was  ceded  to  the  city.  Before  the 
revolution  these  Elysian  Fields  were  covered 
with  quite  a  number  of  booths,  stalls,  cafes,  and 
small  public  houses.  Some  of  these  stretched 
along  the  wide  ditch  which  separated  the  new 
promenade  from  the  Cours  la  Heine;  while 
others  stood  on  different  carves  or  little  squares, 
and  thence  gained  their  names, — as,  for  instance, 
Carre  des  Ambassadeurs,  Carre  de  Doyen — the 
Ledoyen  of  recent  years.  In  the  main,  how- 
ever, the  history  of  the  Champs  ^ lysees  hardly 
began  before  the  Empire,  although  the  famous 
marble  horses  were  brought  from  Marly  in 
1794. 

Napoleon  I  had  great  liking  for  this  vast 
open  spot  as  a  place  of  show,  and  in  1806  he 
began  the  ornamentation  of  its  western  horizon 
by  laying  the  first  stone  of  the  Arc  de  Triomphe. 
Nine  years  later,  Cossacks  bivouacked  in  the 
Champs  Elysees,  and  their  horses  ruined  nearly 
all  the  trees  by  biting  them. 

When  the  city  came  into  possession  of  the 
grounds  great  changes  were  made  in  the  place. 
From  1841  date  the  first  concessions  for  the 
circus,  the  Cafe  des  Ambassadeurs,  the  Alcazar 


PALAIS  DE  L'lNDUSTKIE.  11 


d'Ete  (then  Cafe  Morel),  the  Pavilion  Ledoyen, 
and  the  Pavilion  de  l'Horloge.  That  first 
circus  of  the-  Champs  Elysees  was  managed  by 
Franconi — "  l'illustre  Franconi  " — who  had 
been  with  Astley,  the  English  showman  in 
London. 

In  1852  all  the  moats  and  ditches  were  filled 
in,  and  a  part  of  the  Champs  Elysees  was  set 
apart  for  exhibitions  and  official  purposes,  the 
edifice  known  as  the  Palais  de  Tlndustrie  being 
built  at  that  time.  Then  Baron  Haussmann's 
plans  were  definitely  adopted ;  the  Place  de  la 
Concorde  was  completed  as  it  now'  is,  fountains 
were  constructed  at  the  Rond  Point,  and  the 
Champs  Elysees  of  to-day  was  in  existence. 

From  the  many  booths,  the  summer  circus, 
the  theatre,  the  restaurants,  the  merry-go-rounds, 
the  variety  shows,  the  swings,  and  the  arm- 
chairs, etc.,  all  of  which  make  the  Elysian 
Fields  so  attractive  to  foreigners  and  Parisians 
alike,  the  city  obtained  an  annual  rental  of 
about  $60,000  until  the  grounds  were  some- 
what changed  to  meet  the  requirements  of  the 
Exposition  of  1900. 

To-day  this  vista  from  the  Tuileries  Garden 
through  the  Place  de  la  Concorde  and  up  the 
Champs  Elysees  is  without  a  rival.    In  it, 


12 


PARIS. 


when  night  comes  on,  one  hears  no  cries  of 
"  On  ferme,"  or  drum's  tattoo  warning  people 
that  all  gates  ajar  are  to  be  locked  tightly  till 
the  coming  of  another  day.  The  grand  avenue, 
with  its  wooden  pavement ;  the  gravelled  walks 
under  chestnut  trees;  the  splendid  banks  of 
earth,  where  plants  are  placed  and  fragrant 
flowers  bloom, — are  free  to  all,  at  all  hours,  to 
the  poor  as  well  as  to  the  rich,  to  the  foreigner 
as  well  as  to  those  born  within  the  capital. 
No  police  regulation  here,  as  in  Hyde  Park, 
London,  to  exclude  all  vehicles  below  a  certain 
rank,  and  the  dirtiest,  shabbiest  fiacre  that  was 
ever  drawn  by  an  equine  skeleton,  and  guided 
by  the  most  brutal  of  men,  may  roll  through 
the  Champs  JDlysees  as  freely  as  does  the  car- 
riage of  a  royal  personage  or  the  chariot  of 
some  great  ambassador. 

Early  in  spring  the  Champs  Elysees  begins 
to  show  its  gay  attire.  From  early  forenoon 
until  the  going  down  of  the  sun  it  is  crowded 
with  people  from  many  lands.  The  chestnuts 
are  showing  bits  of  buds,  the  earth  beds  are 
gay  with  early  flowering  plants,  the  sprays  of 
the  many  fountains  glow  with  rainbow  colours. 
Crowds  of  children  in  pretty  costumes,  ever 
barelegged,  and  bedecked  with  red  or  with 


THE  CHAMPS  ELYSEES. 


13 


blue  ribbons,  according  to  sex,  play  in  gravelled 
paths.  Inattentive  dry-nurses  give  good  eye 
to  all  passing  soldiers;  while  the  more  ma- 
millary sort  are  not  ashamed  to  make  "  expo- 
sitions de  poitrines,"  which  are  almost  as 
striking  as  those  one  sees  at  the  drawing-rooms 
of  crowned  heads.  The  little  goat-carts  are 
crowded  with  customers,  the  merry-go-rounds 
are  doing  a  thriving  business,  even  the  fellow 
with  the  weighing-machine  has  awakened  for 
the  day. 

On  Sunday  this  is  certainly  one  of  the  most 
curious  parts  of  Paris,  a  place  where  one  is 
sure  to  meet  all  the  different  social  sets  mixed 
up  in  most  amusing  promiscuity.  Persons 
who  have  been  all  the  week  on  a  tailor's  bench, 
in  a  hat  shop,  at  dressmaking,  or  what  not  of 
all  the  busy  and  honest  pursuits  of  life,  hasten 
thither  then  to  look  at  those  who  wear  better 
clothes  than  they,  or  who  ride  in  carriages 
while  they  must  walk,  no  matter  how  far  away 
from  the  lovely  stretch  of  trees  and  playing 
grounds  may  be  their  common  homes.  People 
go  there  to  study  human  nature  and  take  fresh 
air  baths.  All  along  the  Avenue  one  comes 
across  friendly  groups  of  bourgeois  folk ;  father 
dozing  in  his  iron  chair,  mother  holding  her- 


14 


PAEIS. 


self  very  straight  and  stiff  in  her  old  silk 
gown,  son  sucking  the  head  of  his  walking 
stick,  daughter  with  pensive  air  poking  holes 
into  the  earth  with  the  ferruled  point  of  her 
red  parasol,  as  she  meanwhile  gives  discreet 
glances  at  the  men  who  happen  to  look  in  her 
direction.  The  wooden  roadway  rattles  soberly 
with  passing  cabs  and  carriages,  in  which 
sit  women  nearly  every  one  of  whom  has  a 
pet  dog  curled  up  on  the  front  seat  opposite 
her  noble  self.  There  are  thousands  of  iron 
chairs  along  this  promenade,  and  as  these  can 
be  occupied  all  day  for  two  or  three  cents, 
none  of  them  are  long  empty.  All  the  world 
seems  to  be  in  the  flood  that  ebbs  and  flows  to 
and  from  the  famous  Rond  Point. 

The  trees  are  budding ;  the  Paris  Punch  and 
Judy  show,  called  Guignol,  has  set  up  its 
miniature  stage  theatre,  and  as  we  pass,  we 
can  hear  the  shrill  voice  of  the  familiar  little 
fellow,  whose  war  on  society  and  victory  over 
the  law,  as  represented  by  gendarmes  and 
policemen,  is  the  delight  of  old  and  young. 
Man  is  after  all  but  a  grown-up  child,  and  even 
the  gravest  persons  do  not  mind  unbending 
themselves  now  and  then  down  to  lowly  youth 
again. 


ITS  PKESENT  APPEAKANCE.  15 


Here,  by  this  Avenue  Marigny,  which  leads 
off  to  the  home  of  the  President  of  the  Re- 
public, is  a  diorama  in  which  was  long  the 
picture  of  a  great  battlefield.  This  round 
structure  stands  just  where  the  Folies-Marigny 
stood,  and  that  theatre  was  where  Offenbach 
produced  the  first  operas  bouffe  that  he  ever 
composed.  Across  the  Champs  Elysees  long 
stood  that  other  famous  diorama,  the  "  Siege  of 
Paris,"  which  half  the  world  has  seen,  but  which 
is  now  no  longer  in  existence.  And  here  was 
the  Circus,  open  every  evening  and  on  Tuesday, 
Thursday  and  Sunday  afternoons,  during  the 
summer  months. 

The  Rond  Point  is  one  of  the  loveliest  spots 
in  the  capital,  and  from  it  we  ascend  the  slop- 
ing avenue  which  leads  to  the  Arc  de  Triomphe. 
There  are  no  longer  Elysian  Fields,  only  a 
single  row  of  trees  on  either  hand,  great  broad 
sidewalks,  tall  stone  houses,  and  a  wide  thor- 
oughfare. 

Let  us  sit  here  on  this  wooden  bench  at  the 
corner  of  the  Rue  Marboeuf,  and,  while  we  are 
resting,  watch  the  cavalcade  of  Parisian  life 
which  passes  on  its  daily  pilgrimage  to  and  from 
the  Bois  de  Bologne.  It  is  a  flood  of  social 
rank,  or  wealthy  speculators,  and  of  Bohemia ; 


16 


PARIS. 


it  is  a  stream  of  successful  vice  and  of  success- 
ful talent  and  morality.  Here,  in  the  course 
of  a  single  afternoon,  when  the  air  is  balmy 
with  the  soft  warmth  of  spring  or  early  sum- 
mer, you  will  see  those  who  are  the  glory  and 
those  who  are  the  shame  of  Paris.  Under  this 
arched  stretch  of  blue  sky,  through  this  golden, 
hazy  atmosphere,  roll  cabs  and  carriages  in 
which  are  society  queens,  theatrical  stars,  lead- 
ers of  the  demi-monde,  adventurers  from  abroad, 
actors  from  every  stage,  from  the  Comedie 
humaine  as  well  as  from  the  Comddie  Fran- 
chise. It  is  a  magnificent  field  for  philosophi- 
cal observation  and  reflection,  this  avenue  of 
the  Champs  Elysees,  flooded  with  air  and  sun- 
shine, and  as  full  of  souvenirs  as  was  the  Ap- 
pian  Way  of  tombs  and  catacombs. 

Time  was  when  the  neighbourhood  had 
large  gardens  which  were  owned  by  Jansen,  a 
learned  man,  who  was  also  an  English  baronet. 
When  he  died,  in  1780,  Mme.  de  Marboeuf  pur- 
chased his  property.  There  was  a  weeping 
willow  in  one  garden  which  measured  eighty 
odd  feet  in  circumference.  Another  curious 
tree  which  the  grounds  contained  was  a  cedar 
of  Lebanon  that  is  still  in  existence,  but  now 
lives  in  the  Jardin  des  Plantes.    The  Conven- 


AMERICAN  EPISCOPAL  CHURCH.  17 


tion  made  that  garden  free  to  the  public,  and  one 
of  its  attractions  was  a  hippodrome.  "  Idalie," 
as  it  was  called,  continued  to  be  a  Paris  park 
until  the  end  of  the  Restoration,  when  houses 
began  to  be  constructed,  and  in  a  few  years  the 
quartier  was  tolerably  well  sprinkled  with 
buildings.  Now  it  is  so  thickly  built  up  that 
there  is  hardly  a  vacant  lot  in  that  part  of 
town. 

In  the  very  centre  of  this  splendid  district 
stands  the  magnificent  cathedral  of  the  Ameri- 
can Episcopal  church,  and  close  by  that  sacred 
edifice  is  the  house  where  the  present  writer 
lived  during  many  happy  years. 


CHAPTEK  II. 


Boulevards  of  the  Capital — The  main  one  is  nearly 
three  miles  long  and  bears  many  names — An  ad- 
mirable thoroughfare — It  starts  at  the  Bastille  and 
ends  at  the  Madeleine — Beaumarchais,  the  author- 
poet — Mansion  of  a  once  notorious  lady — Little 
cafes,  little  restaurants  and  little  stores — Scene  of 
an  intended  assassination — Numerous  theatres 
along  the  way — The  moving  centre  of  Paris — 
Famous  Boulevard  Montmartre,  with  its  many  joys 
and  misfortunes — A  passage  named  in  honour  of 
Bobert  Fulton — The  street  of  mad  pleasure — Place 
de  l'Opera  and  the  National  Academy  of  Music — 
A  most  remarkable  edifice  outside  and  inside. 

There  are  boulevards  and  boulevards  in 
Paris;  one  could  never  describe  the  half  of 
them.  Nor  is  it  necessary  to  more  than  merely 
mention  the  boulevard  of  1761  which  com- 
menced at  the  Luxembourg  and  finished  at  the 
Esplanade  des  Invalides  ;  the  boulevards  which 
encircle  the  city  of  Paris  and  traverse  those 
quarters  of  the  capital  where  were  once  the 
villages  of   Menilmontant,  Belleville,  Mont- 


THE  HISTORICAL  BOULEVARDS.  19 


martre,  Batignolles,  Passy,  Vaugirard,  and 
Ivry;  the  Boulevards  Voltaire,  Diderot, 
Richard  Lenoir,  Magenta,  Grenelle,  Montpar- 
nasse,  Saint  Jacques,  Haussmann,  Malesherbes 
and  Saint  Germain.  But  one  must  do  better 
than  that  by  the  real  boulevards,  the  boulevards 
par  excellence,  the  historical  boulevards,  where- 
in almost  every  house  is  a  monument  of  past 
incidents,  accidents  and  tragedies ;  those  boule- 
vards which  extend  under  the  form  of  a  half- 
circle  from  the  Place  de  la  Bastille  to  the  Place 
de  la  Madeleine,  a  distance  of  nearly  three  miles. 
This  long  and  admirable  promenade,  this  great 
artery,  always  teeming  with  people  and  animals, 
is  divided  into  many  names  and  many  quarters, 
and  we  may  stroll  now  through  its  entire 
length. 

Following  the  road  that  the  march  of  events 
has  taken,  the  road  that  the  Genius  of  Paris 
has  pursued,  coming  from  the  shadow  into  the 
sunlight,  from  the  dark  corners  of  the  Bastille 
into  the  clear  spaces  which  shine  out  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  Champs  JClysees,  we  start 
from  the  foot  of  that  bronze  mausoleum  of 
heroes  called  the  Column  of  July,  and  travel 
westward  until  we  reach  the  Church  of  the 
Madeleine. 


20 


PAKIS. 


In  other  days,  when  people  came  into  Paris 
by  the  Rue  Saint  Antoine,  they  saw,  one  after 
the  other,  the  Bastille,  the  Arsenal,  and  then 
the  house  in  which  lived  Beaumarchais,  author 
of  the  "  Marriage  of  Figaro."  To-day  the 
home  of  the  poet  is  replaced  by  a  third-rate 
theatre;  white  stones  in  the  pavement  mark 
the  outlines  of  the  state  prison,  with  its  Colonne 
de  Juillet  in  the  centre ;  the  edifice  embellished 
by  Henry  IV,  Louis  XIII,  and  Louis  XIV, 
after  being  a  grain  warehouse,  has  become  a 
public  library. 

The  Boulevard  Beaumarchais  is  so  named  in 
honour  of  the  famous  author ;  and  near  his  house 
once  resided  the  notorious  Cagliostro.  As 
strangely  curious  as  it  may  have  been,  his  house 
was  as  nothing  compared  with  the  one  in  which 
lived  Ninon  de  TEnclos.  She  was  of  that  race 
of  great  courtesans  whose  mansions  in  the  days 
of  antiquity  were  frequented  by  artists,  poets, 
and  philosophers  ;  and  she  was  so  beautiful  and 
spirituelle  that  her  own  son  fell  madly  in  love 
with  her  and  mourned  himself  to  death.  That 
notorious  woman  early  recognised  the  genius 
of  Voltaire,  then  a  young  man  almost  unknown, 
and  when  she  died  she  left  him  all  the  works 
in  her  library. 


THE  HISTORICAL  BOULEVARDS.  21 


The  Boulevard  Beaumarchais  is  succeeded 
by  the  Boulevard  des  Filles  de  Calviere,  so 
called  from  a  convent  of  that  name,  which  once 
stood  in  the  neighbourhood.  There  are  houses 
in  this  part  of  the  Boulevard  which  are  white 
with  plaster  put  on  to  hide  frightful  wounds 
received  in  civil  wars,  and  their  foundations 
were  laid  in  earth  that  still  smells  of  blood 
and  gunpowder. 

Next  we  have  the  Boulevard  du  Temple,  a 
boulevard  of  little  cafes,  little  restaurants,  little 
shops  and  little  stores  of  many  kinds.  Time 
was  when  it  was  called  the  "  Boulevard  du 
Crime,"  because  there  were  so  many  theatres  in 
it,  where,  every  evening  and  on  Sunday  after- 
noons, melodramas  were  presented  in  which 
scenes  of  poisoning  and  assassination  were  the 
attractive  elements.  There  is  nothing  except 
historical  reminiscences  left  on  the  Boulevard 
du  Temple  however.  It  is  noisy  enough,  but 
the  eclat  of  the  eighteenth  century  is  missing. 
There  are  no  more  illuminations,  concerts  or 
balls  attended  by  kings  and  courtesans;  no 
more  mysterious  cabarets,  wherein  grandes 
dames  give  rendezvous  to  the  lusty  fellows  of  the 
faubourg;  no  longer  a  "  Jardin  de  Paphos,"  a 
"  Cadran  Bleu,"  a  u  cafe  d'  Appollon,"  whose 


22 


PARIS, 


merry  frequenters  were  afterwards  represented 
by  waxwork  figures.  Love  and  pleasure  were 
long  since  driven  out  of  that  quarter  of  Paris 
by  revolutions,  and  the  misery  of  an  unemployed 
or  a  lazy  people. 

Next  comes  the  Boulevard  St.  Martin,  to 
reach  which  we  pass  through  the  Place  de  la 
Republique.  Just  off  to  the  right  is  the  The- 
atre Chateau  d'Eau,  where  operas  are  given  at 
cheap  prices ;  also,  a  large  military  barracks, 
and  an  immense  structure  built  as  a  cooperative 
store,  but  which  was  a  failure  from  the  begin- 
ning. To  the  left  is  the  Temple  market  of  old 
clothes  and  shoddy  new  ones,  that  has  already 
been  described.  Almost  at  the  beginning  of 
the  Boulevard  St.  Martin  stands  a  house,  in  the 
second  story  of  which  Fieschi  planted  the 
infernal  machine  which  he  intended  should 
assassinate  Louis  Philippe.  Just  ahead  of  it 
on  the  right,  is  a  theatre  called  the  Folies 
Dramatiques,  where  Offenbach  had  his  day. 
Further  on  is  the  Ambigu,  home  of  the  modern 
melodrama.  In  the  same  short  block  is  the 
Porte  St.  Martin  Theatre,  which  has  its  history, 
covering  many  years.  Just  before  Louis  XVI 
was  beheaded  it  was  burned  down,  to  be 
rebuilt,  however,  in  seventy  days  for  the  Grand 


THE  HISTORICAL  BOULEVARDS.  23 


Opera.  During  the  hand-to-hand  fighting  of 
the  last  days  of  the  Commune,  this  theatre  was 
again  destroyed  by  fire,  but  it  was  soon  rebuilt 
in  a  substantial  manner.  The  very  next  door 
to  the  Porte  St.  Martin  is  the  Renaissance 
Theatre.  At  the  end  of  this  boulevard  is  the 
Porte  St.  Martin,  a  triumphal  arch  erected  in 
1684,  in  honor  of  those  victories  of  Louis  XIV 
which  added  the  Franche  Comte  to  France. 

The  Boulevard  St.  Denis,  which  follows,  is 
very  short,  not  more  than  three  hundred  yards 
in  length,  perhaps.  Outside  the  Porte  St. 
Denis  (a  triumphal  arch,  erected  by  Louis 
XIV  in  honour  of  his  victories  in  Flanders  and 
Holland),  there  is  nothing  of  particular  interest 
in  this  boulevard. 

Small  tradespeople  flourish  in  the  Boulevard 
Bonne  Xouvelle ;  it  is  a  street  in  which  shrewd 
retailers  grow  rich,  and  shoemakers  seek  politi- 
cal preferment.  The  people  of  the  neighbor- 
hood have  great  confidence  in  their  own  wisdom 
and  believe  themselves  competent  to  rule  over 
the  destinies  of  France.  The  Gymnase  Theatre 
in  the  Boulevard  Bonne  Xouvelle  is  one  of  the 
best  theatres  of  all  the  many  in  the  capital,  and 
No.  25  of  that  boulevard  is  a  house  which  was 
riddled  with  bullets,  and  searched  from  top  to 


24 


PARIS. 


bottom  by  soldiers,  in  December,  1851.  Its 
walls  remained,  all  through  the  reign  of  Napo- 
leon III,  a  sort  of  great  poster,  on  which  had 
been,  ineffaceably  written  the  history  of  a  ter- 
rible crime. 

The  Boulevard  Montmartre  comes  next,  as  a 
sort  of  antechamber  or  vestibule  to  the  Boule- 
vard des  Italiens.  Where  the  Rue,  the  Fau- 
bourg and  the  Boulevard  Montmartre  cross  each 
other,  there  is  amoving  mass  of  horses,  vehicles, 
and  humanity,  such  as  cannot  be  found  in  any 
other  city  in  the  world.  Good  health  and  the 
sickness  of  the  social  evil,  happiness  and  misery, 
honest  workers  and  rascally  loafers,  men  of 
genius  and  sharpers  of  all  sorts,  respectable 
women  and  painted  outcasts,  all  kinds  and 
classes  meet  there  to  swell  a  stream  in  which 
there  is  iron  and  gold  and  nasty  mud.  "  One 
may  trace  the  progress  of  liberty  by  the  purple 
drops  that  Paris  had  shed  along  its  path,"  once 
wrote  an  English  historian  referring  to  the 
Boulevard  Montmartre.  It  is  in  this  boulevard 
that  so  many  misfortunes  show  themselves.  Its 
pavements  are  absolutely  crowded,  day  and 
night,  and  with  carious  people.  Journalism 
thrives  in  this  quarter.  On  the  right  and  on  the 
left  printing  presses  are  groaning,  and  at  all  the 


THE  HISTORICAL  BOULEVARDS.  25 


little  tables  of  the  numerous  cafes,  editors  and 
reporters,  with  politicians  and  actors,  are  seated, 
sipping  their  black  coffee,  or  their  lemonade,  or 
their  absinthe. 

Close  by  is  the  Passage  des  Panoramas,  which 
owes  its  name  to  the  spectacle  of  that  sort 
introduced  into  France  in  February,  1799,  by 
an  American.  It  was  that  same  American? 
who,  when  Napoleon  was  arranging  for  a  de- 
scent upon  England,  presented  the  Emperor  with 
a  memorandum  on  the  immediate  application  of 
steam  to  the  navy.  But  French  savans  pre- 
vailed on  the  Emperor  not  to  take  any  notice  of 
the  offer,  and  our  countryman  returned  to  the 
United  States.  Before  Napoleon  died,  at  St. 
Helena,  he  referred  with  regret  to  this  refusal  ; 
and  he  had  a  right  to  regret  it,  for  the  name  of 
that  man  was  Robert  Fulton.  Close  at  hand  used 
to  exist  the  Frascati,  with  its  splendid  gardens 
and  gambling  rooms.  The  spot  is  now  occupied 
— back  by  a  club-house,  with  its  entrance  in 
the  Rue  Vivienne;  in  front  by  a  shop  where 
one  can  get  cakes  and  ices.  All  the  blood  of 
Paris  seems  rushing  toward  this  spot ;  and  from 
these  contrasts  and  their  minglings,  from  these 
vices  and  virtues,  from  this  mixed  crowd,  arises  a 
warm  perfume  of  irony  and  of  passion,  of  <ego- 


26 


PAEIS. 


tism  and  of  ignorance,  of  riches  and  of  poverty, 
which  has  been  fitly  described  as  "  the  true  fra- 
grance of  the  French  nation." 

Now  we  have  the  Boulevard  des  Italiens,  in 
all  its  glittering  brilliancy.  Along  with  its 
legend  of  unpopularity,  it  has  its  legend  of 
Byronic  elegance  and  of  mad  pleasure.  Time 
and  revolutions  have  passed  along  it  since  then, 
and  one  can  no  longer  find  on  its  blocks  the 
prints  left  by  the  hoofs  of  horses  which  Cos- 
sacks rode.  The  nights  are  far  gone  when  men 
and  women  poured  champagne  from  the 
windows  of  the  Maison  Dore  on  all  passers-by ; 
when  Duchesses  and  Marchionesses  threw  high- 
heeled  slippers  filled  with  money  to  a  shouting 
crowd ;  when  an  English  nobleman,  founder  of 
the  French  Jockey-Club,  boxed  in  the  streets 
with  roughs,  and  cut  off  the  ears  of  a  man  be- 
cause he  was  a  worse  blackguard  than  himself ; 
when  another  young  gentleman,  afterward  son- 
in-law  to  a  French  President,  won  a  heavy 
wager  by  sending  his  mistress  naked  across  the 
boulevard  and  back. 

The  shops,  the  bookstores,  the  cake  bakeries, 
are  all  fine  along  this  boulevard.  The  Credit 
Lyonnaise  has  its  main  bank  here,  while  only  a 
few  steps  away,  in  the  Rue  Laffitte,  is  where 


THE  GRAND  OPERA  HOUSE.  2? 


the  Rothschilds  keep  their  money  boxes. 
There  are  theatres,  newspaper  offices,  and  a  few 
jewelry  stores;  and  then  the  Boulevard  des 
Italiens  ends  finally  at  the  Rue  de  la  Chaussee 
d'Antin,  which,  ever  so  long  ago,  was  the  road 
leading  through  the  Gaillon  gate  to  the  village 
of  Clichy.  That  rue  crossed,  we  reach  the  Boule- 
vard des  Capucines,  at  the  very  corner  of  which 
stands  the  Vaudeville  Theatre.  Soon  we  are 
in  the  Place  de  1' Opera,  where  the  National 
Academy  of  Music  lifts  its  magnificent  front 
and  dome  above  everything.  On  the  left  run 
three  great  streets — the  Rue  du  Quatre  Sept- 
embre,  the  Avenue  de  T Opera,  and  the  Rue  de 
la  Paix,  all  reaching  down  toward  the  Louvre 
and  the  garden  of  the  Tuileries.  The  Opera 
House  itself  is  surrounded  with  streets  bearing 
the  names  of  great  composers,  but  we  shall  re- 
turn to  that  institution  presently.  Safely 
across  this  square  we  continue  our  promenade 
to  the  Boulevard  des  Capucines.  There  is  an 
enormous  hotel  on  our  right  whose  southern 
front  takes  up  the  entire  block,  while  opposite 
the  side  of  it,  across  the  Rue  Scribe — a  street 
fall  of  American  stores  and  banks,  and  Atlantic 
steamship  offices — is  the  Jockey  Club.  But  it 
stands  in  the  Boulevard  de  la  Madeleine,  the 


28 


PARIS. 


last  of  the  boulevards  par  excellence,  and  so 
named  after  the  Church  of  the  Madeleine. 
We  glance  at  a  house  standing  at  the  corner 
of  the  Rue  Caumartin  where  Mirabeau  came  to 
die ;  we  pass  the  church  just  mentioned,  and, 
seated  at  the  Cafd  Durand,  we  finish  our 
stroll  from  the  Place  de  la  Bastille  to  the  Rue 
Royale  with  a  bottle  of  wine  and  a  beefsteak 
(Chateaubriand)  such  as  one  can  get  at  no 
other  restaurant. 

Among  the  many  remarkable  edifices  stand- 
ing in  Paris,  one  of  the  most  prominent  has  to 
do  with  Lyric  Art.  It  is  that  magnificent  edi- 
fice which  we  passed  but  now,  and  which  was 
commenced  in  the  reign  of  Napoleon  III,  com- 
pleted by  the  third  Republic,  and  opened  for 
the  first  time  early  in  1875. 

A  site  being  chosen,  the  land  was  purchased 
for  two  million  two  hundred  thousand  dollars  in 
1860,  but  from  the  start  Architect  Charles  Gar- 
nier  had  to  encounter  an  obstacle,  the  existence 
of  which  was  known,  though  not  to  its  full  ex- 
tent. It  was  known  that  Paris  was  traversed  by 
a  subterranean  stream  of  water,  and  as  a  portion 
of  the  foundation  of  the  Opera  would  have  to  be 
laid  deeper  than  those  of  any  building  in  that 
neighbourhood,  there  was  no  accurate  data  as 


MATEEIALS  FOE  CONSTRUCTION.  29 


to  this  stream  s  depth.  As  it  was  intended 
that  the  stage  cellars  should  meet  every  possi- 
ble requirement  of  the  most  complicated  scenic 
work,  and  as  it  was  necessary  to  so  arrange 
them  that  scenes  fifty  feet  high  could  be  low- 
ered into  them  without  their  taken  apart,  the 
plant  called  for  a  depth  of  sixty-five  feet  from 
the  level  of  the  stage.  This  necessitated  lay 
ing  the  foundations  of  the  building  at  a  depth 
of  fifty-five  feet,  and  as  they  had  to  carry  a 
weight  of  at  least  ten  million  pounds,  it  was 
necessary  that  their  solidity  should  be  beyond 
question.  It  was  necessary  that  they  should  be 
perfectly  dry,  for  the  cellars  were  destined  to 
hold  valuable  stage  properties,  also  canvases 
painted  by  master  artists ;  and  so,  the  work, 
amidst  all  these  difficulties,  was  pushed  on,  un- 
til it  was  finally  completed  at  the  end  of  De- 
cember, 1874. 

The  materials  which  entered  into  its 
construction  came  from  many  lands.  Sweden 
sent  green  marble ;  Scotland,  Aberdeen  granite ; 
Italy,  violet  breche,  white  altissimo,  and  Sienna 
yellow;  Algeria,  onyx;  Finland,  red  porphyry; 
Spain,  brocatelle ;  and  Belgium,  black  dinant. 
France  supplied  jaspers  from  Mont  Blanc ;  the 
Vosges,  granite ;  and  many  other  costly  stones 


30 


PARIS, 


and  marbles.  The  building  when  finished  had 
cost  nearly  twelve  million  dollars. 

The  front  of  this  Academy  of  Music  and  the 
Dance  is  familiar  to  all  who  have  ever  visited 
Paris,  as  it  also  is  to  many  others,  thanks  to 
photographs  and  engravings ;  but  what  no  pho- 
tograph or  engraving  can  convey  is  a  correct 
idea  of  the  harmonious  blending  of  colours  in  the 
wonderful  pile.  Above  steps  which  came  from 
Saint  Hie,  rises  a  portico  ornamented  with 
groups  and  statues ;  while  above  that  is  the 
loggia,  formed  of  sixteen  monolith  columns  of 
Bavarian  stone  standing  out  against  a  back- 
ground of  red  granite  from  the  Jura.  Between 
each  pair  of  columns  are  balconies  of  polished 
stone  supporting  balustrades  of  Swedish  green, 
and  these  are  accompanied  by  eighteen  columns 
with  gilt  bronze  capitals,  between  which  are 
placed  the  busts  of  distinguished  musicians. 
Resting  on  Bavarian  stone  columns,  the  fagade 
is  completed  by  an  attic  which  is  decorated 
with  sculptures  standing  against  a  Mosaic 
ground.  The  whole  of  the  roof  line  is  bordered 
with  a  gilt  bronze  cornice  representing  antique 
masks,  and  at  the  corners  are  gilt  bronzes  of 
Harmony  and  Poetry.  The  effect  is  completed 
by  the  cupola  of  the  auditorium,  capped  by  a 


FKONT  OP  THE  BUILDING.  31 


rich  dome  of  gilded  bronze ;  and  behind  which, 
equal  in  height  to  the  towers  of  Notre  Dame, 
rises  the  gable  roof  over  the  stage,  supporting 
at  each  end  a  bronze  Pegasus,  and  in  the  centre 
a  group  representing  Apollo,  holding  up  over 
his  head  his  golden  lyre,  with  two  of  the 
Muses  seated  at  his  feet.  The  sculptures  on 
the  attic  represent  Architecture,  Industry  ? 
Painting,  and  Sculpture ;  the  bronze  busts  are 
those  of  Mozart,  Beethoven,  Spontini,  Auber, 
Rossini,  Meyerbeer,  Halevy,  Quinault,  and 
Scribe.  Lower  down  are  medallions  of  Bach, 
Haydn,  Pergolese  and  Cimarosa.  Between  the 
main  front  doors  are  four  statues  representing 
the  Drama,  Singing,  Idyl,  and  Cantata ;  while 
on  either  side  of  the  entrance  to  the  galleries 
which  run  along  the  building  are  white  marble 
groups,  representing  Music,  Lyric  Poetry,  Lyric 
Drama,  and  Dancing.  It  may  be  mentioned 
further  that  this  front  is  lit  up  by  four 
ornamental  bronze  candelabras,  of  great  size, 
and  when  the  gas  and  the  electric  lights  in  the 
loggia  are  turned  on  full  blaze  the  appearance 
of  the  f  agade  is  indeed  brilliant  and  attractive. 

Let  us  enter  the  building.  After  going  up 
the  ten  steps  which  extend  along  the  entire 
front,  we  pass  under  arches,  go  through  double 


32 


PAEIS. 


doors,  and  find  ourselves  in  an  enormous  vesti- 
bule lit  by  several  groups  of  lanterns  resting 
on  marble  vases.  Here  also  are  seated  statues 
of  male  representatives  of  Italian,  French, 
German,  and  English  schools  of  music,  the  last 
mentioned  "  school "  being  represented  by 
Handel. 

Ten  steps  of  Swedish  green  give  access  to  a 
second  vestibule,  where  four  or  five  different 
ticket  takers  are  seated  at  as  many  different 
places,  and  where  the  light  is  supplied  by  ten 
graceful  candelabras,  each  supplied  with  gas 
and  electricity;  and  then,  in  front  of  us,  rises 
the  Grand  Staircase.  By  reason  of  the  origi- 
nality of  its  design,  the  skilful  arrangement  of 
all  its  parts,  the  richness  of  its  materials,  and 
the  splendour  of  its  appearance,  this  stair- 
way of  the  Paris  Opera  House  is  simply  mag- 
nificent. From  the  vestibule  at  its  foot  we 
have  before  us  the  most  elegant,  most  pictur- 
esquely decorated  ensemble  that  was  perhaps 
ever  created  in  a  structure  of  modern  times. 
The  vaults  of  the  central  flight  and  the  columns 
which  sustain  them  are  of  Echailion  stone,  cov- 
ered with  delicately  carved  arabesques ;  the 
steps  are  of  white  Serrovezza  marble,  bordered 
by  a  balustrade  of  antique  red  marble,  the 


THE  BALCONIES. 


33 


columns  resting  in  Swedish  green  marble  sock- 
ets and  supporting  a  handrail  of  onyx,  and  at 
the  top  are  Venetian  mosaics.  Half  way  up 
this  grand  stairway  breaks,  a  flight  to  the 
right  and  a  flight  tq  the  left,  both  leading  to 
the  first  tier  of  boxes,  while  straight  ahead  is 
the  road  to  the  orchestra  stalls  and  the  pit 
seats. 

On  the  first  tier  floor,  which  we  have  reached 
by  either  of  the  two  upper  flights  of  steps,  rise 
thirty  monolith  columns  of  Sarrancolin  marble 
with  white  marble  bases  and  capitals.  Since 
the  days  of  Louis  XIV  no  architect  had  at- 
tempted to  use  columns  of  such  dimension — 
each  is  eighteen  feet  high — and  to  procure 
them  it  was  necessary  to  quarry  fifty  blocks, 
twenty  being  found  defective.  In  the  tympans 
of  the  arcades  of  the  vaulted  top  of  the  stair- 
well twelve  medallions  of  light  yellow  marble 
are  surrounded  by  cherubs'  heads  and  other 
ornaments,  and  the  entablature  is  entirely  en- 
crusted with  various  coloured  marbles  harmoni- 
ously arranged.  The  vaulted  roof  is  pierced 
by  twelve  openings  forming  arcades,  which 
correspond  to  those  below,  and  the  ceiling  is 
decorated  with  panels,  fifteen  by  twenty  feet 
in  size  each,  on  which  are  painted  allegorical 


34 


PAEIS, 


subjects.  Between  the  columns  on  three  of 
the  sides,  are  balconies  of  onyx  and  jasper, 
which  allow  spectators  from  all  parts  of  the 
house  to  enjoy  the  aspect  of  these  majestic 
stairs  from  all  points  of  view,  and  here  those 
who  occupy  places  in  the  cheapest  galleries  at 
the  top  are  fond  of  coming  between  acts  to 
watch  the  arrival  and  departure  of  the  more 
showy  public. 

On  the  second  and  third  tier  the  balconies 
are  of  bronze,  while  on  the  fourth  and  fifth 
they  are  of  marble.  The  effect  produced  when 
this  grand  stairway  is  filled  with  an  ascending 
or  a  descending  throng  of  handsomely  dressed 
ladies  and  gentlemen,  and  when  all  the  balcon- 
ies are  crowded  with  spectators  of  nearly  every 
class,  is  indescribably  brilliant  and  animated. 
The  floods  of  light,  the  moving  mass  of  cos- 
tumes, the  brilliant  surroundings,  the  smiling 
faces,  the  greeting  of  friends,  the  noisy  happi- 
ness,— all  this  forms  a  grand  picture  which 
recalls  to  mind  some  of  those  vast  canvases  on 
which  Paul  Veronese  painted  scenes  of  fes- 
tivities. 

At  the  head  of  the  first  flight  of  stairs,  steps 
lead  up  into  the  avant  foyer,  which  communi- 
cates at  each  end  through  an  open  salon  with 


THE  GRAND  FOYER. 


35 


the  corridors  of  the  grand-floor  of  the  auditor- 
ium. This  avant  foyer  is  a  gallery  sixty-five 
feet  long,  one  side  opening  or  looking  on  to 
the  grand  stairs ;  the  other  communicating, 
through  three  lofty  doors,  with  the  grand  foyer. 
These  doors  are  twenty-three  feet  high,  the 
upper  panels  being  mirrors;  the  lower  ones 
are  decorated  with  bronze  gilt  medallions  rep- 
resenting the  musical  instruments  of  Egypt, 
Greece,  Italy,  and  France,  and  are  surrounded 
by  wreaths  of  leaves  and  flowers.  The 
vaulted  ceiling  of  this  avant  foyer  is  a  brilliant 
specimen  of  decorative  art,  being  entirely  cov- 
ered with  mosaics  of  vitrified  enamels  of  most 
gorgeous  colours,  and  producing  those  warm 
tones,  which  can  only  be  obtained  with  this 
species  of  decoration. 

But  the  Grand  Foyer  is  the  real  place  of 
magnificence.  It  is  one  hundred  and  seventy- 
six  feet  long  by  forty-five  feet  wide  ;  the  ceil- 
ing is  sixty  feet  above  the  well-polished  floor, 
and  it  is  this  loftiness  which  most  impresses 
one  when  entering  the  room  for  the  first  time. 
There  is  a  lavish  use  of  gold  in  its  decoration ; 
not  a  bright  new  gold,  but  that  shade  called 
old  gold,  which  produces  soft  rich  tones  and 
reflections.    There  are  large  monumental  re- 


36 


PARIS. 


cesses  flanked  with  twenty  accoupled  columns, 
supporting  a  massive  entablature,  from  wliicli 
springs  the  vaulted  ceiling,  and  at  the  angles 
of  which  are  seated  figures  of  children,  nine 
feet  high,  these  all  standing  out  in  relief  and 
forming  connection  between  the  cornices. 
Above  each  column  is  a  gilded  statue  repre- 
senting the  various  qualities  necessary  to  make 
an  artist :  imagination,  hope,  etc.  The  vaulted 
ceiling  is  divided  into  eight  compartments,  in 
each  of  which  is  a  painting  by  Paul  Baudry ; 
and  between  them  are  eight  large  figures 
representing  so  many  of  the  Muses,  the  ninth 
Muse,  Philosophy,  having  a  statue  elsewhere 
in  the  foyer.  Mirrors  twenty-four  feet  high, 
half  a  dozen  large  arm-chairs,  richly  covered 
with  coloured  velvet,  several  enormous  and 
richly  gilded  chandeliers,  and  a  splendidly  waxed 
floor  complete  this  vast  hall,  which  is  certainly 
one  of  the  greatest  attractions  of  the  Paris 
Opera  House. 

All  around  the  auditorium  there  is  on  each 
tier  a  wide  couloir,  or  hall,  from  which  doors 
give  access  to  the  private  boxes,  and,  clear 
away  at  the  top,  to  the  galleries. 

Many  persons  are  disappointed  in  not  find- 
ing the  theatre  as  large  as  the  exterior  of  the 


THE  CEILING. 


37 


building  had  led  them  to  suppose  it  would  be. 
In  reality,  however,  it  is  about  the  same  size  as 
the  theatre  of  La  Scala  at  Milan,  or  that  of 
San  Carlo  at  Naples,  which  are  the  two  largest 
opera  auditoriums  in  Europe. 

The  ceiling  of  the  theatre  is  decorated  with 
a  large  painting  on  copper,  representing  the 
twenty-four  hours,  the  sun,  moon  and  stars. 
The  entablature  which  supports  this  ceiling  is 
furnished  with  a  row  of  glass  globes  lighted 
by  electricity,  and  forming,  so  to  speak,  a  belt 
of  pearls.  A  second  series  of  openings  in  the 
friezes  are  closed  by  coloured  glass  also  lighted 
in  a  way  to  make  them  look  like  a  diadem  of 
topazes  and  emeralds.  This  original  way  of 
lighting  the  auditorium  is  completed  by  a 
massive  chandelier  which  hangs  from  the  centre 
of  the  ceiling  and  floods  the  hall  with  illumina- 
tion from  five  hundred  electric  jets.  Eight 
large  columns  of  polished  stone,  partially 
gilded,  support  the  upper  portion  of  the  audi- 
torium and  form  the  skeleton,  so  to  speak,  of 
the  theatre.  Between  these  columns  are 
ranged  the  balconies  and  boxes,  all  rich  with 
gilding  and  crimson  velvet. 

The  prices  of  these  boxes  and  of  the  orchestra 
stalls  are  not  excessive,  never  being  more  than 


38 


PAKIS. 


$3.40  for  the  stalls  or  for  seats  in  the  first  tier 
boxes,  and  ranging  down  from  that  to  $1.60 
for  places  in  the  fourth  tier  of  boxes;  while 
seats  in  the  upper  gallery,  of  which  there  are 
six  hundred,  cost  no  more  than  two  francs, 
which  is  less  than  half  a  dollar.  The  max- 
imum receipts  of  the  Paris  Opera  are  not  more 
than  $4,500 ;  but  to  this  "  take  "  must  be  added 
the  share  of  the  annual  state  subvention  of 
$160,000,  besides  which  the  management  pays 
no  rent,  while  all  the  gas  is  obtained  at  half 
price. 


CHAPTER  III. 


The  divine  art  of  music — First  Opera  House  in  the 
capital — Development  of  the  ballet — Arrival  in 
Paris  of  Gluck  and  Piccini — 6i  Ramists "  and 
"  Lullists  " — The  famous  Vestris — A  theatre  built 
in  sixty  days — Assassination  of  the  Due  de 
Berri — Debuts  in  Paris  of  Taglioni  and  Fanny 
Elssler — More  about  the  Opera  House — A  peep 
behind  the  curtain — Stage  hands,  musicians, 
dancers,  and  singers — One  hundred  and  twenty- 
five  dressing-rooms — Several  green  rooms — the 
foyer  de  la  danse — A  most  luxurious  hall  for  the 
ballet  stars — Portraits  of  distinguished  dancers. 

The  claim  was  long  since  made  by  a  great 
thinker  that  it  is  their  Belles  Lettres,  their 
Sciences,  their  Arts,  that  is  to  say  their  Morals, 
which  show  the  civilisation  of  a  people. 

Music  is  one  of  the  most  delightful  and  best 
of  Arts,  as  indeed  it  is  a  Science  in  some  ways ; 
this  being  admitted,  we  may  well  concern  our- 
selves further  with  that  monument  in  Paris 
which  has  to  do  with  this  Divine  Art.  Among 
the  Ancients,  Musical  Art  began  to  decline  the 


40 


PAEIS. 


moment  when  civilisation  began  its  first  de- 
cadence, and  during  the  time  of  the  barbarians, 
in  what  is  known  as  the  Dark  Ages,  it  was 
neglected  if  not  forgotten  completely.  But 
Music  as  an  Art  was  born  again  during  the 
fifteenth  century,  and  then  in  Italy,  with  all 
the  other  arts.  It  was  from  Italy  that  Cardinal 
Mazarin  brought  a  troupe  of  actors  to  Paris, 
where  they  first  played  and  sang  an  Italian 
pastoral  in  five  acts. 

But  the  first  Opera  House  the  capital  ever 
had  was  situated  in  front  of  a  street  named 
Gueneguad,  on  the  site  of  houses  which  now 
bear  the  numbers  forty-three  in  the  Rue  de 
Seine  and  forty-two  in  the  Hue  Mazarin ;  and 
the  first  "  comedie  francaise  de  musique  "  ever 
presented  was  "Pomone,"  a  pastorale  in  five 
acts  and  a  prologue.  The  words  were  by  the 
Abbe  Perrin,  music  by  Combert,  organist  in  the 
Church  of  St.  Honore.  Perrin  obtained  the 
right  to  present  this  work  in  1669,  and  took  into 
partnership  with  him  the  Marquis  de  Sourdeac, 
who  was  considered  the  most  skilful  theatrical 
machinist  of  the  time.  The  hall,  built  in  five 
months,  was  in  reality  a  tennis  court,  and  was 
altered  into  a  theatre.  "  Pomone  "  was  a  great 
success,   so  De  Sourdeac  tried  to  get  rid  of 


BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  OPERA.  41 


Perrin,  whereupon  the  latter  sold  his  work  and 
the  royal  patent  to  Sully,  to  whom  the  King 
granted  the  privilege  of  calling  his  theatre  the 
"  Academie  Royale  de  Musique." 

Sully  selected  a  tennis  court  in  the  Rue 
Vaugirard,  between  the  Palais  du  Luxembourg 
and  the  Rue  des  Francs  Bourgeois,  as  his 
theatre,  and  he  opened  it  Nov.  15,  1672  ;  but 
soon  an  opportunity  presented  itself  for  him 
to  secure  a  much  better  house.  On  the  death 
of  Moliere,  Sully  asked  for  the  Palais  Royal 
Theatre,  hitherto  occupied  by  that  actor-author 
and  his  company,  and  the  King  granted  this 
request. 

The  Opera  remained  in  these  quarters  ninety 
years,  and  would  have  remained  there  still 
longer,  perhaps,  had  not  a  fire  destroyed  the 
theatre  and  a  part  of  the  Palais  Royal.  Sully 
made  money  and  retired  in  favour  of  his  son-in- 
law,  Frangine,  who,  after  managing  the  house 
for  eleven  years,  was  forced  to  take  a  hanger- 
on  at  Court,  named  Dumont,  into  partnership. 
In  1728  they  retired,  and  Destouches  was  placed 
at  the  head  of  the  Academie  Royale  de 
Musique.  Two  years  later  he  sold  his  privilege 
for  three  hundred  thousand  francs  to  a  banker 
named  Gruer,  a  protege  of  Cardinal  Fleury. 


42 


PAKIS. 


He  soon  got  sick  of  his  bargain  and  the  Count 
de  Saint  Gille  and  a  judge  named  Leboeuf 
were  selected  by  the  King  for  the  privilege  of 
ruining  themselves.  They  were  succeeded  by 
an  army  captain,  the  Chevalier  de  Picardie, 
who  proved  a  brilliant  manager  during  the 
eleven  years  that  he  remained  at  the  head  of 
the  Opera.  A  financier  named  Berger  suc- 
ceeded, and  left  the  establishment  in  debt  four 
hundred  thousand  francs,  a  fact  which  helped 
to  bankrupt  his  successor,  Trif ontaine ;  after 
which  Louis  XV  determined  to  get  rid  of  a 
musical  pleasure  *  that  was  costing  so  much 
money,  and  handed  the  control  of  the  con- 
cern over  to  the  city  of  Paris. 

Thus  in  1749  the  Opera  became  a  musical 
institution  under  the  supervision  of  the  Mar- 
quis d'Argenson.  Four  years  later  two  musi- 
cians, Rebel  and  Francoeur,  were  placed  at  the 
head  of  the  house,  and  in  1757  they  assumed 
the  risks  and  perils  of  the  enterprise  in  return 
for  a  thirty  years'  concession.  Before  that 
term  expired,  they  sold  out  to  Berton  and  Triat, 
who  later  took  Dauvergne  and  Joliveau  into 
the  partnership,  and  that  firm  was  running 
matters  at  the  time  of  the  fire  just  now  referred 
to. 


A  NEW  THEATRE  BUILT. 


43 


Measures  were  taken  to  keep  the  company 
together,  and  they  gave  concerts  in  that  part 
of  the  Tuileries  known  as  the  Pavilion  de 
Flore.  ' 

In  another  wing  of  the  palace  there  was  a 
theatre  constructed  by  Louis  XIV,  where  bal- 
lets were  given  for  the  amusement  of  Louis  XV 
during  his  minority,  but  which  since  1716  had 
remained  unused.  The  king  ordered  Architect 
Soufflot — he  who  started  to  build  the  Pantheon 
— to  arrange  this  as  a  provisional  opera-house, 
and  he  utilised  the  old  stage  for  the  new  hall, 
which  had  about  the  same  proportions  as  the 
one  that  was  burned,  but  was  much  handsomer. 
Inaugurated  the  fifth  of  January,  1764,  the 
opera  remained  there  until  January  23,  1770, 
and  it  was  in  that  hall  that  the  National  Con- 
vention held  its  stormy  meetings. 

During  this  period  of  seven  years  a  new 
theatre  for  the  Opera,  was  being  built  on  the 
site  of  the  one  destroyed  by  fire  at  the  Palais 
Royal,  and  it  was  the  first  building  of  impor- 
tance especially  constructed  in  Paris  for  opera 
purposes.  On  Friday,  June  8,  1781,  at  8:30 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  just  as  the  performance 
was  about  to  begin,  the  scenery  of  that  theatre 
caught  fire.    The  ballet-master,  first  to  per- 


44 


PARIS. 


ceive  it,  had  the  curtain  lowered  without 
alarming  the  audience,  and  the  building  was 
emptied  before  any  one  in  front  suspected  what 
was  happening  on  the  stage.  Fourteeni  dancers 
and  machinists  perished  in  the  conflagration. 

The  period  between  the  inauguration  of  this 
theatre  and  its  destruction  is  remarkable  in 
many  ways.  The  ballet  acquired  more  grace 
and  expression  than  had  hitherto  characterised 
it,  while  the  musical  department  was  completely 
reformed  by  the  arrival  in  Paris  of  Gluck, 
Piccini,  and  a  company  of  Italian  buffo  singers. 
Gluck  not  only  enriched  the  lyric  stage  with 
his  "  Iphigenie  en  Aulide,"  "  Orpkee,"  etc., 
but  he  imparted  vigour,  energy  and  precision  to 
the  orchestra.  He  also  taught  the  performers 
to  sing  in  time,  and  to  declaim  the  recitative 
with  animation.  The  "  Ramists,"  or  partisans 
of  Rameau,  who  had  triumphed  over  the  "  Lul- 
lists,"  or  advocates  of  Lulli,  were  in  their  turn 
conquered,  and  the  ancient  French  music  was 
utterly  annihilated. 

Then,  in  1776,  the  Chevalier  de  Saint 
Georges,  a  Creole  famed  as  a  fencer  and  musician, 
offered,  in  conjunction  with  a  company  of  cap- 
italists, to  undertake  the  management  of  the 
Opera;  and  his  offer  would  probably  have 


DRAWING  THE  COLOUR  LINE.  45 


been  accepted  had  not  Mesdames  Sophie  Arn- 
ould,  Giumard,  and  others  addressed  a  petition 
to  the  Queen,  praying  her  Majesty  to  represent 
to  the  King  that  their  honour  would  not  allow 
them  to  submit  to  be  managed  by  a  mulatto ; 
in  consequence  of  this  appeal,  Monsieur  de 
Saint  Georges  was  -not  appointed. 

In  those  days,  and  among  the  men  of  the 
ballet,  there  flourished  a  person  named  Vestris 
who  modestly  called  himself  "  le  Dion  de  la 
Danse."  His  son  far  surpassed  him  in  talent, 
however ;  but  then  he  had  the  ballet  genius  in 
him  on  both  sides,  for  his  mother  was  a  dan- 
seuse.  Of  this  younger  Vestris  the  father  once 
exclaimed,  after  watching  him  in  a  pas-de-deux7 
"  If  my  son  does  not  spring  higher,  it  is  because 
he  is  unwilling  to  humble  his  comrades  too 
much,  for  were  he  to  mount  so  high  as  he  can, 
he  would  be  ennuie  while  in  the  air  for  want  of 
conversation." 

Next  the  Opera  had  to  content  itself  with  a 
little  hall  belonging  to  the  buildings  of  the 
Menus  Plaisirs  of  the  King  in  the  Rue  Bergere, 
and  now  known  as  the  Paris  Conservatoire, 
where  the  stage  was  so  small  that  little  or  no 
scenery  could  be  used,  and  only  works  calling 
for  a  small  number  of  artistes  were  given. 


46 


PARIS. 


The  Opera  remained  there  only  a  short  time, 
and  until  the  new  building  in  the  Boulevard 
Saint  Martin  was  ready,  which  house,  often 
cited  as  a  wonder  of  rapid  architectural  work, 
was  built  in  sixty  days.  It  was  not  a  very 
extensive  building,  however,  this  Theatre  de 
la  Porte  Saint  Martin ;  but  the  architect  had 
guaranteed  to  build  a  place  which  would  last 
for  thirty  years,  and  it  lasted  ninety,  and  then 
was  only  destroyed  by  an  intentional  fire  started 
by  the  Communists  for  the  purpose  of  checking 
the  advance  of  the  Versailles  troops. 

The  Opera  remained  at  the  Porte  Saint 
Martin  only  a  short  while  as  those  at  the  head 
of  it  formed  the  project  of  securing  a  newly 
erected  building  which  they  thought  more 
suitable  to  their  purposes.  In  one  of  the  finest 
quarters  of  the  city,  in  the  Rue  Richelieu,  then 
called  Rue  de  la  Loix,  a  woman  had  erected 
the  Theatre  National,  and  to  get  possession  of 
it  the  Opera  Committee  accused  Citoyenne 
Montansier  with  having  built  it  in  front  of  the 
National  Library  with  the  intention  of  destroy- 
ing that  depdt  of  human  knowledge.  She  was 
arrested,  her  theatre  was  closed,  and  very  soon 
afterward  the  Opera  took  possession  of  it ;  its 
name  was  changed  to  Theatre  des  Arts,  and'  it 


PIT  SEATS  FOR  SPECTATORS. 


47 


was  -the  first  house  in  Paris  where  pit  seats 
were  provided  for  the  spectators. 

Very  likely  the  Opera  would  have  remained 
as  long  in  the  Rue  Richelieu  as  it  had  in  any 
of  its  previous  homes  except  for  an  occurrence 
which  sealed  the  doom  of  the  building  in  the 
most  unexpected  manner.  On  the  night  of  the 
13th  of  February,  1820,  the  Due  de  Berri  was 
stabbed  by  Louvel ;  carried  into  the  manager's 
office,  the  heir  to  the  crown  died  in  a  few  hours, 
and  the  Government  decided  that  not  only 
should  there  be  no  more  operas  given  in  the 
house  but  that  the  building  itself  should  be 
razed  ^to  the  ground  to  make  room  for  an  ex- 
piatory monument. 

At  that  time  the  Salle  Favart,  built  in  1781 
for  the  Italian  Comedians,  and  which  was  after- 
ward the  Opera  Comique,  was  vacant,  and  in 
it  the  Opera  gave  performances  until  in  May, 
1821,  when  it  moved  to  a  house  which  has  since 
been  pulled  down.  Meanwhile  a  provisional 
theatre  was  building  in  the  Rue  Lepeletier, 
which  was  inaugurated  the  16th  of  August, 
1821,  under  the  management  of  the  Chief  of 
the  Orchestra. 

It  was  while  the  Opera  was  in  the  Rue 
Lepeletier  that  Paris  first  knew  Marie  Taglioni. 


48 


PARIS, 


She  made  her  debut  in  July,  1827,  and  her 
last  appearance  was  in  the  summer  of  1844  ; 
but  she  danced  in  London  afterward.  Another 
great  danseuse  of  that  same  company  and 
period  was  Fanny  Elssler.  These  queens  of 
the  ballet  were  equally  great,  yet  quite  unlike, 
and  both  are  famous  in  the  annals  of  the 
modern  stage. 

The  great  singers  of  that  time  were  Ad. 
Nourret,  Cornelia  Falcon,  Mme.  Dorus-Gras, 
Monsieur  Duprez,  Mademoiselle  Rosinie  Stoltz, 
etc.  The  Opera  remained  in  the  Rue  Lepele- 
tier  until  fire  (October  28,  1873,)  reduced  the 
place  to  ashes  in  a  very  few  hours,  when  it  was 
installed  in  the  Salle  Vendatour,  which,  after 
having  been  successfully  occupied  by  the  Opera 
Comique,  the  Theatre  Nautique,  the  Italian 
Theatre,  and  the  Paris  Grand  Opera,  was  finally 
turned  into  a  banking  house.  Here  the  Opera 
remained  until  the  completion  of  the  new 
building  described  in  the  previous  chapter. 

The  Paris  Opera  House  is  the  largest  theatre 
of  its  kind  in  the  world,  while  its  dependencies, 
especially  those  behind  the  curtain,  are  the 
most  important  to  be  found  anywhere.  It  is 
no  easy  matter  however,  to  get  behind  that 
curtain,  except  in  one  way,  and  that  is  by  a 


BEHIND  THE  CURTAIN. 


49 


door  which  communicates  between  the  stage 
and  the  auditorium.  But  this  door  is  open 
only  to  those  who  are  subscribers ;  that  is  to 
say,  to  gentlemen  who  have  taken  seats  for 
three  nights  in  the  week  for  the  season,  to 
diplomats,  to  distinguished  guests  of  France,  and 
to  certain  members  of  the  press.  A  subscriber 
for  one  night  has  no  right  to  pass  this  door, 
although  he  may  do  so  with  permission  of  the 
management,  or  the  secretary.  Now  and  then, 
however,  an  outsider  is  permitted  to  go  in  at 
the  stage  door,  at  the  other  end  of  the  building 
after  passing  through  great  iron  gates  at  the 
bottom  of  the  Administration  court,  a  gate 
which  admits  hundreds  of  artistes  and  employes 
at  every  performance.  By  placing  ourselves 
at  this  gate  before  the  entertainment  begins, 
we  may  gradually  see  pass  before  our  eyes  the 
whole  of  the  staff  of  this  wonderful  house  of 
music,  where  the  works  of  Gounod,  Massenet, 
Verdi,  Meyerbeer,  Thomas,  Wagner,  etc.,  are 
given  by  the  best  of  singers. 

First  of  all  come  the  machinists  to  look  after 
the  scenery ;  there  are  no  fewer  than  two  hun- 
dred of  these,  and  sometimes  the  number  is 
greatly  increased.  In  the  opera  of  "L'Afri- 
caine,"  in  the  scene  where  the  ship  appears  and 


50 


PAKIS. 


changes  its  course  on  the  stage,  the  manoeu- 
vring underneath  requires  the  additional  co- 
operation of  at  least  fifty  men.  With  the 
machinists  come  the  tapissiers,  whose  special 
duty  it  is  to  see  to  the  placing  and  arranging  of 
the  carpets,  draperies,  and  furniture ;  next  are 
the  gas-lighters  and  lampists,  who  spread  them- 
selves all  over  the  stage  and  throng  out  into 
the  hall  to  light  the  thousands  of  gas  jets  which 
are  dimly  burning,  even  though  there  are  electric 
lights  everywhere.  Then  the  local  firemen  are 
told  off  for  duty  during  the  performance,  and 
when  these  have  verified  the  apparatus  in  good 
condition,  each  and  every  employe  is  supposed 
to  be  at  his  post  for  the  evening. 

By  this  time  strange-looking  men  are  present- 
ing themselves  at  the  porter's  door,  and  they 
pass  in,  ticket  in  hand,  under  the  supervision 
of  a  person  known  as  the  chef  de  claque. 
These  claquers  are  let  into  the  theatre  long  be- 
fore the  public,  and  occupy  seats  in  the  centre 
of  the  parterre,  a  body  of  the  house  between 
the  Stalls  and  the  Amphitheatre.  Except  for 
the  fact  that  these  parterre  seats  are  not  quite 
so  wide  as  the  orchestra  chairs,  there  is  no  dif- 
ference whatever  between  these  places  and 
the  places  in  front  which  are  supposed  to  be 
the  best  in  the  house. 


STAGE  HANDS  AND  DRESSERS. 


51 


Next  comes  the  avertisseurs,  or  call  boys,  of 
whom  there  are  a  dozen,  and  who  go  to  the 
rooms  of  artistes  to  inform  them  when  it  is 
their  turn  to  sing  or  dance  during  the  evening. 

After  this  arrive  the  property  men,  and  these 
have  plenty  of  properties  to  take  care  of,  as  all 
sorts  of  accessories  are  believed  in  at  the  Paris 
Grand  Opera. 

Then  come  the  dressers,  tailors,  and  coifFers, 
who  go  up  to  the  artistes'  rooms,  or  to  the 
places  reserved  for  their  special  work.  During 
the  daytime  the  raise  en  loge  has  been  attended 
to,  that  is  to  say,  all  the  parts  of  the  costume 
or  dress  which  each  person  has  to  wear,  from 
the  leading  prima  donna  or  tenor,  down  to  the 
smallest  supernumerary,  are  placed  in  their  re- 
spective cabinets,  so  that  they  can  be  found 
immediately  when  the  time  comes  for  dressing. 
This  is  a  matter  of  much  importance,  because 
it  is  rare  that  an  opera  is  sung  twice  in  suc- 
cession. Wigs,  beards,  moustaches,  trunks, 
tights,  slippers,  wearing  apparel  of  all  sorts, 
and  armour,  not  to  mention  the  many  other 
articles  needed,  are  placed  methodically,  and 
taken  out  only  when  required  for  the  per- 
formance. 

Next  the  " supers"  appear,  most  of  them 


52 


PARIS. 


wearing  blouses,  workingmen  or  labourers  en- 
gaged for  the  evening  there  ;  but  some  are  paid 
an  annual  salary.  Women  are  a  part  of  them, 
of  course,  but  the  mass  are  men  recruited  at 
the  last  moment.  Their  day's  work  over,  they 
are  glad  to  earn  a  little  something  extra  by 
strutting  their  brief  moments  on  the  Lyric 
stage.  They  know  the  requirements  of  each 
piece,  and  follow  the  information  given  by  the 
street  posters.  Some  operas  want  a  few  soldiers 
or  a  few  peasants;  they  know  the  work  by 
heart  and  present  themselves  accordingly. 
When  the  "  Juive  "  is  to  be  performed,  they 
come  in  a  mob  to  the  chief  who  chooses  from 
them  to  enlarge  the  ranks  of  the  grand  cortege. 
They  enter,  and  go  through  the  manoeuvres 
under  the  direction  of  the  heads  of  the  various 
groups  of  men  who  know  what  is  required  for 
each  scene.  Now  and  then,  on  the  occasion  of 
a  first  night,  a  few  gentlemen  succeed  in  slipping 
in  as  supernumeraries,  and  thus  hear  the 
premiere  of  a  new  work,  something  that  would 
be  impossible  otherwise. 

All  the  staff  of  choruses — men,  women  and 
children — arrive  in  their  turn  and  go  upstairs 
to  dress,  accompanied  in  some  instances  by 
mothers,  who  have  the  right  to  enter  with  their 


ARTISTES  AND  MUSICIANS.  53 


daughters,  in  other  instances  by  maidservants, 
and  in  many  cases  alone.  A  few  of  the  faster 
kind  arrive  in  their  private  carriages. 

Meanwhile,  the  singing  artistes  have  slipped 
in  and  gone  to  their  rooms  to  dress.  Some 
arrive  early,  so  as  to  attire  themselves  at  their 
leisure,  or  to  pose  their  voice  and  conveniently 
exercise  it  before  going  on  the  stage.  They 
even  receive  company  before  the  performance 
begins,  as  well  as  during  entr'acts ;  and  mean- 
while their  private  dresser  is  getting  them  ready 
for  the  stage. 

The  musicians  arrive,  take  their  instruments 
in  hand,  put  on  white  neckties  and  go  down 
into  the  orchestra.  It  is  not  obligatory  that 
they  shall  be  in  swallow-tailed  coats,  but  they 
must  wear  a  black  one  and  a  white  necktie  while 
in  the  house. 

Thus  all  the  "  people  "  put  in  an  appearance, 
until  by  the  time  the  curtain  is  ready  to  go  up 
there  is  a  small  army  of  almost  one  thousand 
individuals  behind  the  scenes.  But  none  of 
these  men  and  these  women  do  any  other  work 
than  their  own  assignment.  The  fellow  who 
prepares  the  conflagration  in  "  Le  Prophete,"  or 
the  flames  of  the  burning  pile  of  Azucema,  or 
the  arranging  of  the  crackers  for  the  catastrophe 


54 


PARIS. 


in  "  Les  Huguenots,"  would  never  deign  to 
lend  a  hand  to  a  hydraulician  or  a  scene  shifter. 
This  is  true  also  of  the  man  who  prepares  the 
cup  for  Mephisto,  wherein  the  liquor  turns  to 
flame.  It  is  he  who,  in  "  La  Favorita,"  gives 
Fernand  the  sword  that  breaks  in  pieces  at  the 
foot  of  the  King,  but  it  is  another  man  who,  in 
ballets  where  dancers  are  dressed  like  bees, 
birds  or  insects,  adjusts  the  transparent  wings 
to  their  delightful  waists.  But  greatest  of  all 
are  those  singers  who  are  required  in  making 
the  execution  of  the  composer's  work  as  realistic 
to  the  public  as  possible. 

There  are  one  hundred  and  twenty-five 
dressing-rooms  for  the  dancers  and  the  singing 
people.  The  rooms  for  the  principals  are  each 
composed  of  a  small  antechamber,  a  toilet  cab- 
inet, and  the  dressing-room  proper.  Each 
room  has  two  looking-glasses,  one  of  which  al- 
lows the  artiste  to  see  herself  or  himself  from 
head  to  foot  with  the  aid  of  gas  jets  or  electric 
lights  on  each  side,  while  others  are  adjusted 
by  a  rubber  tube,  so  that  they  can  be  placed  at 
any  height  or  position  desired.  There  is  a 
stove  and  a  fireplace,  and  the  occupant  of  each 
room  may  choose  whether  dry  or  humid  heat  is 
needed.    There  are  several  larger  rooms  with 


THE  FOYER  DES  ROLES. 


55 


stalls  in  them  and  chests  for  putting  clothes, 
and  these  are  for  the  choruses.  Then  there  is 
a  room  for  those  who  sing  minor  roles,  and 
another  room  for  the  children.  The  male 
members  of  the  ballet  dress  in  rooms  fitted  up 
for  a  dozen  persons,  and  there  are  large  rooms 
for  the  dancers  of  the  "  first  quadrille."  The 
other  members  of  the  ballet  dress  themselves  in 
a  public  room  which  will  hold  twenty  to  thirty 
persons,  and  finally  there  is  one  room  in  which 
two  hundred  supernumeraries  may  prepare 
themselves  at  the  same  time.  In  all  there  is 
dressing-room  for  seven  hundred  persons,  and 
this  can  be  increased  so  that  a  thousand  indi- 
viduals may  be  costumed  in  a  short  space  of 
time. 

The  Grand  Opera  House  has  several  foyers. 
There  is  the  magnificent  room  at  the  front  end 
of  the  building,  facing  the  Place  de  1' Opera, 
which  is  for  the  paying  public  and  has  already 
been  described,  but  behind  the  curtain  there 
are  several  more  "green  rooms,"  as  they  are 
called  in  England  and  America. 

There  is  a  foyer  des  rdles,  which  is  made  use 
of  for  studie^s  ;  and  where,  under  the  direction 
of  singing  masters,  the  first  rehearsals  of  a  new 
work  take  place.    Later  on,  when  the  parts  are 


56 


PARIS. 


known,  rehearsals  are  held  on  the  main  stage. 
A  piano  replaces  the  orchestra,  and  only  such 
scenery  as  will  indicate  entrances  and  exits 
forms  the  mise-en-scene.    Here  singing  artistes 
rehearse  alone  at  first,  then  the  choruses  join 
them,  after  that  the   ballet  takes   its  turn. 
Night  rehearsals  succeed  the  day  ones,  super- 
numeraries come  to  lend  their  aid  to  the  an- 
ticipated performance,  and  orchestra  rehearsals 
take  place,  as  the  musicians'  are  generally  occu- 
pied during  the  day  in  giving  lessons.    All  the 
rehearsals,  up  to  the  last,  or  repetition  generate, 
are  gone  through  without  costumes.  Instead 
of  choruses  brandishing  swords,  pikes  and  bat- 
tle axes,  they  wave  sticks  and  umbrellas.  A 
cortege  passes ;  later  on  people  will  wonder  at 
its  brilliancy,  but  now  it  is  made  up  of  men  in 
faded  blouses,  or  machinists  wearing  greasy 
jackets.    It  is  a  rule  at  the  Grand  Opera  that 
when  a  singing  artiste  is  carried  in  on  a  palan- 
quin or  other  sort  of  stretcher,  it  must  be  done 
by  machinists ;  they  are  supposed  to  be  more 
careful  than  other  men,  and  for  doing  this  work 
they  receive  a  feu,  that  is  to  say,  extra  com- 
pensation.   The  corps  de  ballet  are  in  ordinary 
street  dress,  and  in  the  midst  of  this  uniform- 
ity of  long  skirts,  some  who  are  experienced  in 


THE  FOYER  DE  LA  DANSE. 


5? 


such  matters  can  recognise  the  pages  by  the, 
manner  in  which  their  arms  are  folded.  Finally 
the  evening  arrives  when  everything  is  ready, 
and  then  the  costumes  are  put  on.  A  general 
rehearsal  hardly  differs  from  the  first  perform- 
ance except  by  the  length  of  its  entr'acts. 

The  foyer  de  la  danse  plays  an  important 
part  at  the  Paris  Opera  House.  It  is  a  meeting 
place  where  a  certain  portion  of  the  public  are 
admitted,  and  that  portion  are  all  gentlemen  in 
evening  dress.  In  other  theatres  the  door 
leading  to  this  foyer  is  open  only  to  the  man- 
agement, or  to  members  of  the  press,  but  at  the 
Grand  Opera  subscribers  for  three  nights  in  the 
week  have  a  right  to  go  into  this  green  room. 
This  is  a  custom  that  dates  back  to  1770,  when 
opera  was  sung  in  the  Palais  Royal.  The  foyer 
de  la  danse  is,  next  to  the  public  foyer,  the 
most  luxurious  room  in  the  building.  All  over 
the  stage  one  is  permitted  to  wear  his  hat,  but 
it  must  be  removed  as  soon  as  he  enters  into 
the  sacred  room  of  the  ballet  dancers.  They 
tell  the  story  of  King  Edward,  when  still  the 
Prince  of  Wales,  going  into  this  foyer  once 
upon  a  time,  with  his  hat  on,  whereupon  one 
of  the  charming  young  ladies  said  to  him  that 
while  she  would  never  dare  ask  him  to  remove 


PARIS, 


his  crown,  she  would  venture  to  request  him  to 
take  off  his  hat. 

The  wall  at  the  far  end  of  the  room  is  all 
mirror.  The  largest  sheet  of  glass  that  has 
ever  been  made  stands  in  place  at  that  end  of 
the  room,  and  yet  it  is  not  half  large  enough  to 
cover  the  space  required.  There  are  three  of 
these  mirrors,  and  in  them  are  reflected  a  gilded 
lustre  which  has  one  hundred  and  sixty  lights. 

Each  side  of  the  room  is  ornamented  with 
spiral  fluted  columns  of  rich  marble,  surmounted 
by  gilded  capitals,  whereon  are  butterflies  with 
outspread  wings,  that  replace  the  opening  of 
acanthus  leaves.  In  the  ceiling  are  sunken 
panels,  surrounded  with  garlands  of  flowers,  in- 
cluding bluebells;  and  beyond  this  a  ceiling 
representing  a  summer  sky,  in  which  winged 
children  are  chasing  birds. 

This  ceiling,  and  the  other  paintings  here,  are 
the.  work  of  Boulanger.  Some  time  before  he 
died  he  painted  the  portraits  of  twenty  of  the 
most  celebrated  dancers  the  Opera  has  ever 
known.  The  dates  that  accompany  these  por- 
traits are  those  of  their  entrance  on  the  stage 
and  of  their  retirement.  It  is  a  historical  gal- 
lery, displaying  the  costumes  of  different  epochs, 
a  gallery  wherein  women  are  wearing  the  patches 


PAINTINGS  BY  BOTJLAKGBR.  59 


of  black  taffeta  of  two  hundred  years  ago,  the 
boas  of  the  Restoration,  and  the  dresses  of  the 
present  day.  There  are  various  physiognomies 
which  recall  minuets,  gavottes,  tarentelles, 
waltzes,  mazourkas,  and  contre  dances.  Danc- 
ing is  a  fugitive  art,  and  a  step  cannot  be 
written  like  a  poem,  or  a  pas-de-deux  be  com- 
posed like  a  couplet.  The  score  will  not  give 
us  the  accent  of  a  singer  or  the  charm  of  her 
voice  ;  another  singer  may  take  it  and  interpret 
it  as  well,  or  even  better.  Painting  can  repro- 
duce the  grace  of  an  attitude,  but  not  the  viva- 
city of  a  step,  and  thus  we  lose  much  of  the  past. 
But  we  like  to  know  how  those  others  looked, 
and  so  portraiture  has  its  usefulness.  Under 
these  portraits  Boulanger  painted  four  large 
pictures  representing  a  dance  of  war,  a  country 
dance,  a  love  dance,  and  a  Bacchanalian  dance ; 
in  medallions  placed  above  these  panels  are 
inscribed  the  names  of  those  who  have  com- 
posed the  most  successful  ballets  for  the  Grand 
Opera. 

It  is  to  this  foyer  that  all  the  dancers  come 
just  before  going  on  the  stage  to  do  their  grace- 
ful work  before  the  public.  It  is  a  brief  but 
necessary  rehearsal,  a  sort  of  limbering  up  of  all 
joints  preparatory  to  a  dance  which  may  make 


60 


PARIS. 


or  mar.  The  premieres  danseuses  have  bars  in 
their  dressing-rooms  which  permit  them  to  get 
this  exercise,  and  this  they  take  as  they  are 
dressing,  but  almost  invariably  they  also  take 
a  final  turn  or  bend  in  the  foyer  de  la  danse 
before  going  on  the  stage.  Except  at  perform- 
ances, the  dancer  exercises  with  stockings  that 
have  already  been  well  used,  but  as  she  is  go- 
ing on  the  stage  these  are  usually  changed  for 
a  new  pair.  She  wears  light  gaiters  made  of 
cloth,  and  into  the  tip  of  her  little  slipper  is 
put  a  bit  of  white  cotton  that  gives  firmness  to 
the  silk  and  keeps  the  big  toe  resting  on  a 
softer  point  than  it  would  otherwise.  A  few 
drops  of  gum  put  on  with  a  brush  make  the 
tights  adhere  to  the  heel ;  the  strings  of  the 
slippers  are  well  tied  and  knotted  with  care ;  a 
final  hitch  is  given  somewhere  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  the  waist ;  and  on  she  bounds  to 
make  her  pirouettes.  Not,  however,  until  she 
has  tried  a  few  attitudes  before  these  three 
large  mirrors,  so  as  to  be  sure  that  her  muslin 
skirts  are  not  creased  and  that  there  are  no  rips 
anywhere. 

There  is  a  foyer  du  chant,  also,  on  the  same 
floor  as  that  of  the  dancers,  but  on  the  Rue 
Scribe  side  of  the  building.    It  is  a  large 


PORTRAITS  OF  GREAT  SINGERS.  61 


room,  and  the  principal  decoration  is  formed  by 
thirty  panels,  in  which  are  portraits  of  some  of 
the  great  artistes  who  have  sung  at  the  Opera. 
Different  from  the  foyer  de  la  dame,  the  foyer 
du  chant  is  very  little  frequented.  Dancers 
habituated  from  childhood  to  walk  about  the 
stage  very  slightly  dressed  do  not  fear  the  cur- 
rents of  air.  On  the  contrary,  singers  know 
that  the  least  variation  in  the  temperature  of  a 
room  may  change  their  voices.  They  only 
leave  the  dressing-room  at  the  last  moment, 
and  up  to  the  time  of  their  entrance  on  the 
stage,  they  go  muffled  about  with  necks  wrapped 
up  in  handkerchiefs  or  flannel  shawls.  They 
practice  their  scales  in  their  rooms,  and  from 
this  point  of  view  also,  there  is  a  great  differ- 
ence between  them  and  the  dancers.  Twenty 
ballet  girls  will  execute  or  imitate  their  steps 
at  the  same  moment  without  any  noise  what- 
ever. Half  a  dozen  singers,  practising  their 
scales  or  running  over  an  air  before  going  on 
the  stage,  will  produce  a  cacophony,  which 
would  make  a  sawmill  seem  as  quiet  as  a  country 
cemetery. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


The  Stage  a  part  of  life  to  all  Parisians — History  of 
the  Drama  in  the  Capital — Appearance  of  the 
Troubadours — The  first  theatre — Brothers  of  the 
Passion  troupe-Satire  a  favourite  weapon  with  some 
actors — Their  troubles  with  the  Clergy — Arrival 
of  foreign  artistes — Farcical  plays  predominant — 
Cardinal  Richelieu's  support  of  the  drama — 
Corneille  and  Moliere — Origin  of  the  Opera 
Comique — Founding  of  the  "  first  theatre  in  the 
world  " — State  recognition  of  dramatic  instruction 
— The  Comedie  Fran9aise  a  part  and  parcel  of  the 
National  glory— Anecdotes  of  Napoleon  and  the 
Stage. 

It  has  been  frequently  observed  that  a  Par- 
isian can  discuss  everything,  that  there  is  no 
object  which  does  not  furnish  him  with  a 
topic  of  conversation.  But  it  is  not  on  his 
knowledge  of  the  Arts  or  the  Sciences  that  he 
holds  himself  most  secure ;  it  is  only  when  it 
is  a  question  of  the  drama  that  he  admits  of  no 
rival.  The  Stage  is  to  him  a  part  of  life ;  not 
gossip  of  players,  but  Dramatic  Works,  and 
the  manner  in  which  they  are  written  and  in 


HISTOKY  OP  THE  PARIS  STAGE. 


63 


which  they  are  interpreted — this  is  his  peculiar 
province.  Parisians  looks  on  the  Drama  as 
being  the  most  popular  walk  of  Literature, 
and  as  it  afforts  the  best  test  of  their  taste  as  a 
Nation,  it  also  supplies  more  striking  examples 
of  that  taste  than  even  their  novels  or  their 
poetry,  both  of  which  are  particularly  strong. 
The  reason  for  this  is  clear ;  they  hold  that  of 
all  the  Arts  the  Dramatic  or  Scenic  Art  has 
exercised  the  largest  direct  influence  on  modern 
civilisation.  It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  there- 
fore, that  the  history  of  the  Stage  in  the  cap- 
ital is  both  old  and  interesting. 

Even  as  the  first  tragedies  of  Italy  were  com- 
posed in  honour  of  the  god  of  the  vintage,  and 
as  the  actors  sang  or  spoke  their  parts  from  the 
top  of  a  cart  in  the  public  road ;  so  too  the  first 
shows  played  at  Paris  were  in  honour  of  the 
saints,  while  the  actors  passed  through  the 
streets  on  a  cart — always  followed  by  an  idle 
throng — stopping  now  and  then  in  some  public 
square  to  give  their  performances.  But  after 
some  while,  the  obscene  plays  became  so 
numerous  and  so  revolting  in  Paris  that  Bishop 
Eudes  induced  the  King  to  issue  a  decree  for- 
bidding them;  little  or  no  attention  was  paid 
to  the  royal  mandate,  however,  and  they  were 


64 


PARIS. 


continued  for  several  centuries  longer,  when 
finally  the  Theological  Faculty,  aided  by  the 
police,'  suppressed  the  shameful  spectacles  in 
1444. 

It  was  about  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth 
century  when  those  amiable  poets  known  as 
trouvlres  or  Troubadours  came  up  to  the  capital 
from  the  provinces,  with  their  songs,  tenzons, 
stories  and  comedies.  But  as  there  was  not 
enough  of  Troubadours  to  supply  the  demand, 
they  engaged  other  persons  to  present  their 
compositions,  and  these  aids  were  in  turn 
known  as  chanteurs,  jongleurs,  joueurs,  and 
bateleurs.  Unfortunately,  however,  the  Trou- 
badours were  so  successful  that  they  grew  vain 
and  ambitious,  and  sought  to  add  to  their 
glory  by  writing  and  appearing  in  satirical 
poems  in  which  they  mocked  high  and  power- 
ful personages.  For  this  they  were  prosecuted 
and  compelled  to  quit  the  streets  of  Paris ;  the 
poets  disappeared,  but  the  chanteurs  and  the 
jongleurs  remained,  and  in  spite  of  an  occasional 
row  with  the  police  of  Philippe  le  Bel,  they 
continued  to  play  pieces,  mainly  Latin  tragedies, 
the  subjects  of  which  were  always  taken  from 
saintly  history. 

Before  that,  toward  the  end  of  the  fourteenth 


THE  FIRST  THEATRE. 


65 


century  and  after  the  Crusades  of  Saint  Louis,  so 
many  Pilgrims  made  their  appearance  in  Paris, 
singing  and  telling  the  story  of  their  voyages 
and  dangers,  that  a  few  rich  bourgeois  hired  a 
house  where  these  men  could  perform  in  rainy  or 
cold  weather,  and  that  was  the  first  theatre 
known  of  in  the  capital.  Recognising  this  valu- 
able help,  the  Pilgrims  redoubled  their  efforts  to 
become  worthy  of  such  support,  and  for  the  first 
time  began  to  act  their  discourses.  Their  suc- 
cess was  so  certain  that  they  struck  out  for 
greater  things,  and  first  of  all  put  on  the  stage 
the  life  of  Christ,  from  His  birth  to  His  death, 
but  cutting  the  piece  into  several  days.  They 
also  judged  it  necessary,  in  order  to  better  hold 
the  attention  of  their  audiences,  to  make  the 
spectators  laugh  as  well  as  cry,  so  they  placed 
buffoons  alongside  of  their  most  serious  actors. 
In  this  one  respect  at  least  we  do  not  seem  to 
have  improved  any  on  the  poor  Pilgrim  players 
of  six  hundred  years  ago. 

The  Prevot  of  Paris  closed  the  theatre  of  the 
Pilgrims  in  1398,  whereupon  they  pled  so 
earnestly  with  King  Charles  VI,  that  he  organ- 
ised the  actors  into  a  regular  society  called  the 
"  Confreres  de  la  Passion,"  and  soon  after  gave 
them  Trinity  Hospital,  situated  outside  of  the 


66 


PAEIS. 


Porte  Saint  Denis,  for  their  performances. 
Soon  afterward  these  Brothers  of  the  Passion 
associated  themselves  with  the  "  Enfans  Sans- 
Souci,"  and  they  used  to  play  together;  but 
their  theatre  was  not  the  only  one  then  open  in 
Paris.  The  Clercs  de  la  Basoche  also  had  a 
large  hall  at  the  Palais  in  which  to  play  farces 
or  moralites.  Those  sort  of  pieces,  which  always 
had  a  good  moral  for  aim,  were  called  moralites 
and  in  them  all  the  vices  as  well  as  all  the  vir- 
tues were  acted  and  personified;  they,  were  how- 
ever, allowed  to  perform  but  thrice  a  year,  and 
then  only  on  occasions  of  public  rejoicing.  The 
farces  were  divided  into  such  things  as  fabule- 
uses,  histrioniques  and  enfarinees.  The  enfa- 
rinees  were  so  called  because  they  powdered 
their  face  with  flour  (farine),  after  the  man- 
ner of  English  clowns  in  modern  pantomimes. 
Very  soon  the  Basochiens,  with  whom  satire 
was  a  favourite  weapon,  went  so  far  as  to  attack 
those  who  governed  Paris.  Louis  XII  did  not 
mind  this  in  the  least,  but  his  successors  looked 
at  things  differently,  and  in  January,  1516,  it 
was  forbidden  them  to  play  any  farce  or  comedy 
in  which  Princes  or  Princesses  of  the  Court 
were  mentioned.  The  same  prohibition  also 
extended  to  the  theatres  of  the  Colleges  of 


BROTHERS  OF  THE  PASSION.  67 


Navarre,  of  Bourgogne,  of  the  Bons  Enfans, 
of  Cardinal  Lemoine,  of  Boncour,  and  of 
Justice. 

As  will  be  seen,  the  taste  of  the  theatre  had 
become  general,  for  not  only  were  there  "  places 
of  amusements  "  in  the  city,  but  each  college 
had  one,  and  here  the  Professors  shared  the 
acting  roles  with  their  pupils. 

Despite  all  orders,  this  multitude  of  actors, 
drawn  from  almost  every  class  in  the  social 
scale,  continued  to  criticise  Government  and 
persons ;  but  when  the  sister  of  Francois  I,  a 
woman  famous  for  her  many  virtues,  was  repre- 
sented as  a  Fury  ii\  ono  of  the  comedies  played 
at  the  College  of  Navarre,  the  King  promptly 
threw  the  entire  company  into  prison. 

Meanwhile  the  Brothers  of  the  Passion  con- 
tinued to  be  honoured  with  Royal  protection, 
their  privileges  having  been  re-confirmed  by 
King  Frangois  in  1518.  In  1540  those  players 
were  installed  in  the  Hotel  de  Flandre,  where 
they  remained  five  years,  when  they  were  given 
a  place  in  the  Hotel  de  Bourgogne.  But  now 
Parliament  interfered  with  the  "  freedom  of  the 
stage,7'  by  decreeing  that  these  confreres  should 
no  longer  represent  the  Passion  or  other  sacred 
mysteries.    Thereupon  they  took  up  with  the 


68 


PARIS, 


romances  of  chivalry,  and  Jean  de  Pontalais, 
their  principal  actor,  became  widely  celebrated. 

The  trials  and  tribulations  of  this  particular 
troupe  were  not  yet  ended ;  they  fell  into 
trouble  with  the  Cure  of  Saint  Eustache ;  Par- 
liament was  appealed  to ;  remonstrances  against 
them  reached  Henri  III,  and  their  theatre  was 
closed  for  a  year,  but  they  were  then  permitted 
to  "  open  up  "  again.  It  seemed,  however,  as 
if  the  more  they  were  opposed  the  more  the 
number  of  theatres  increased  ;  although  most  of 
the  companies  thus  formed  were  forced  to  leave 
the  capital  in  due  course  of  time.  However,  in 
1595,  other  foreign  comedians  arrived  in  Paris, 
and  after  looking  carefully  over  the  field,  they 
built  themselves  a  theatre  at  the  Fair  of  Saint 
Laurent.  In  vain  the  Enfans-Sans-Souci,  who 
had  been  located  at  the  Hotel  de  Bourgogne, 
protested  to  Parliament  the  presence  of  these 
foreigners ;  they  were  not  only  permitted  to 
remain,  but  very  soon  a  company  of  actors  came 
from  Spain  to  increase  their  numbers. 

A  police  order  issued  in  1609  compelled  the- 
atres to  finish  their  performance  by  half  past 
four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon ;  it  also  fixed  the 
prices,  and  directed  that  every  play  should  be 
submitted  to  the  King's  attorney  before  being 


SUCCESS  OF  THE  TUKLUTIJNTADES.  69 


produced.  At  that  time  the  Theatre  des  Italiens 
was  established  in  the  Rue  de  la  Poterie,  and  its 
actors  were  receiving  money  from  Henri  IV. 

During  the  reign  of  Louis  XIII  and  the  ad- 
ministration of  Richelieu,  Arts  and  Letters, 
especially  the  Drama,  and  thanks  to  two  men 
of  genius  living  at  that  period,  took  on  high 
importance ;  but  as  we  are  not  yet  completely 
freed  of  the  barbarians,  it  is  perhaps  better  to 
continue  this  imperfect  review  by  saying  some- 
thing more  of  the  Theatre  de  l'H6tel  de  Bour- 
gogne  where  the  "  Prince  de  Sots  " 1  was  all- 
powerful.  Ordinary  buffooneries  began  to  give 
way  to  a  better  kind  of  comedies,  but  farcical 
pieces  still  dominated.  The  more  famous  ac- 
tors of  that  period  were  Turlutin,  Gautier  Gar- 
guille,  Gross-Guillaume,  St.  Jacques,  Bruscam- 
bille,  and  the  distinguished  Scaramouche.  The 
success  of  these  Turlutinades,  as  they  were 
called  in  course  of  time,  alarmed  the  actors  of 
the  Hdtel  de  Bourgogne,  and  the  latter  laid 
their  complaints  before  Richelieu.  The  Cardi- 
nal resolved  on  judging  for  himself  as  to  their 
merits,  so  he  ordered  them  to  appear  before 

1  The  manager  under  Henri  IV  was  Nicholas  Joubert, 
known  publicly  as  "Seigneur  d'Engoulevent/'  and  as 
"  Chef  de  la  Sottise,"  or  Prince  of  Fools, 


70 


PAKIS. 


him,  and  their  drolleries  were  so  amusing  that 
he  made  the  complainants  admit  the  Turluti- 
nades  into  their  company.  By  this  time  heroes 
in  farce  abounded  throughout  Paris  and  new 
theatres  were  constructed  for  their  use.  That 
of  Tarbarin  stood  on  the  Place  du  Pont  Neuf, 
near  the  bridge,  for  seven  or  eight  years. 
Then  Cardinal  Richelieu  built  the  Theatre  du 
Palais  Royal  because  he  was  determined  to 
have  a  fit  place  wherein  to  produce  his  tragedy 
of  "  Miranne  "  ;  but  works  by  Pierre  Corneille, 
Rotrou,  Bois-Rolent,  Colletet,  etc.,  were  also 
played  in  the  new  theatre. 

Pierre  Corneille  had  installed  modern  tragedy 
at  Paris,  but  it  was  Moliere  who  placed  comedy 
higher  than  it  had  ever  been  before,  even  with 
the  ancients.  Moliere,  like  William  Shakes- 
peare, was  author,  actor,  and  manager,  and 
Richelieu  put  him  at  the  head  of  a  company 
of  comedians  in  1650.  After  having  played 
at  the  Jen  de  Paume  of  the  White  Cross  in  the 
Rue  de  Bussi  for  three  years,  the  troupe  made 
a  provincial  tour,  and  then  returned  to  Paris, 
Moliere  having  been  assigned  to  the  Theatre 
du  Petit  Bourbon,  where  Louis  XIV,  still  very 
young,  came  to  dance  in  public.  But  Moli&re 
and   company  did  not  remain  there  a  long 


THE  OPERA  COMIQUE.  71 


while ;  in  1660  they  were  given  the  Palais  Royal 
Theatre,  and  there  they  remained  until  Moliere's 
death,  when  they  were  dispossessed,  at  the  in- 
stigation of  Sully  who  wanted  it  for  an  Opera 
House.  Soon  afterward  the  old  theatre  at  the 
Hotel  Bourgogne  was  closed,  and  the  troupe 
joined  with  the  comedians  at  the  Palais  Royal, 
for  whom  a  hall  had  been  built  in  the  Rue  des 
Fosses-Saint  Germain  (subsequently  named 
Rue  de  l'Ancien  Comedie,  and  still  so-called), 
where  they  remained  until  1770.  They  already 
bore  the  designation  of  "  Comediens  Fran^ais 
ordinaires  du  Roi,"  and  their  condition  and 
pay  were  fixed  by  law.  In  the  mean  time 
other  theatres  were  being  opened,  and  one  of 
these  was  the  Ambigu  Comique  in  the  boule- 
vards ;  it  is  still  in  use,  and  is  the  "  home  of 
melodrama,"  sc  to  speak. 

I  pass  over  other  places  of  amusement  to 
come  to  the  origin  of  the  Opera  Comique.  It 
goes  back  to  the  first  year  of  the  reign  of  Louis 
XV,  and  was  established  on  the  Boulevard  du 
Nord.  It  at  once  succeeded;  indeed  so  large 
was  the  attendance  that  the  Theatre  Frangais 
became  very  jealous  and  had  the  Opera  Comique 
suppressed  in  1718.  It  was  re-established, 
however,  in  1724,  and  was  not  again  punished 


72 


PARIS. 


for  its  great  success  until  in  1745.  Six  years 
later  the  Opera  Comique  was  again  the  vogue, 
and  finally  in  April,  1762,  it  was  incorporated 
with  the  "comediens  privilegies," 1  otherwise 
known  as  Italians.  When  this  union  took 
place  Madame  Favart  was  at  the  height  of  her 
success  at  the  Italians ;  and  although  the  new 
house  was  known  as  the  Comedie  Italienne 
there  were  really  no  Italians  in  the  consolidated 
companies,  not  after  1780  at  any  rate.  While 
the  King  was  away  during  a  few  days  in  Octo- 
ber, the  Regent  installed  a  troupe  of  Italian 
actors  and  singers  at  the  Tuileries,  but  his 
Majesty's  unexpected  return  forced  them  to 
leave  without  delay.  They  went  to  the  Fair 
of  Saint  Germain,  stayed  there  with  varying 
success  until  January,  1795,  when  they  made 
their  debut  at  the  Theatre  Faydeau  in  Paris. 
But  the  public  would  have  none  of  their  per- 
formances, so  they  sold  their  house  to  the 
Comediens  Italiens,  and  ever  since  then  the 
place  has  been  known  as  the  Theatre  de  1' 
Opera  Comique,  and  it  is  to-day  one  of  the 
opera  stages  subventioned  by  the  French 
government. 

lrTo  distinguish  them  from  the  "Comediens  or- 
dinaires  du  Koi,"  or  members  of  the  Theatre  Fran9ais. 


THE  COMEDIE  FRANCAISE. 


73 


Threatened  by  the  building  in  the  Rue  des 
Fosses  Saint  Germain,  which  was  about 
tumbling  on  their  head,  the  Comediens  Fran- 
£ais  moved  to  the  Tuileries,  while  the  Odeon 
was  being  constructed  for  their  use.  They  oc- 
cupied this  new  house  until  late  in  1783  ;  it 
was  called  the  Theatre  Francais  until  in  1789, 
when  it  received  the  name  of  Theatre  de  la 
Nation,  and  the  phrase  "  comediens  ordinaires 
du  Roi  "  was  erased  from  the  playbill  in  1791. 
In  the  beginning  of  this  last-mentioned  year, 
Dugazon,  Talma,  Grandmereil,  Madame  Vestris, 
Mme.  Desgarcius  and  Mme.  Lange  separated 
from  their  comrades  and  accepted  engagements 
at  the  Theatre  des  Varietes  Amusementes, 
which  then  first  took  the  name  of  Theatre 
Fran^ais  de  la  Rue  Richelieu.  It  was  not, 
however,  until  after  the  destruction  of  the 
Odeon  by  fire  in  March,  1799,  that  the  house 
in  the  Rue  Richelieu  became  a  general  point  of 
union  for  all  the  original  members  of  the  troupe, 
and  it  soon  became  recognised  as  the  only 
Comedie  Franchise. 

This  historical  playhouse  at  Paris,  the  u  First 
Theatre  in  the  World,"  as  it  was  often  termed, 
and  which  is  to  be  described  in  this  chapter, 
was  destroyed  by  fire  on  the  afternoon  of 


PAEIS. 


March  8,  1900,  but  lias  since  been  rebuilt  on 
the  same  site0 

To  teach  the  art  of  Dramatic  Action,  Decla- 
mation and  Diction  is,  in  some  respects,  infin- 
itely more  arduous  and  more  complex  than  or- 
dinary teaching,  for  the  results  are  produced 
by  translating  the  different  movements  of  the 
human  soul,  its  sentiments,  its  emotions,  its 
passions,  its  sorrows,  and  its  joys,  before  the 
footlights.  It  is  a  difficult  art,  one  in  which 
France  has  long  been  in  the  first  rank,  and 
which,  submissive  to  a  thousand  vicissitudes 
of  taste  and  fashion- — while  at  the  same  time 
incessantly  being  transformed  by  the  genial 
efforts  of  master  teachers — has  finally  arrived  at 
its  highest  point  of  perfection,  and  this  at  what 
is  everywhere  recognised  as  the  first  theatre  in 
the  world,  the  Comedie  Franchise.  It  was 
long  since  established,  and  the  reason  for  its 
universality  is  due  entirely  to  state  recognition 
of  dramatic  instruction  as  a  branch  of  the 
Liberal  Arts  to  be  aided  and  encouraged  offi- 
cially. Neither  in  America  nor  in  England 
is  there  any  national  training  school  of  stage 
art,  either  lyrical  or  dramatical 

With  the  English  and  Americans  an  actor 
or  an  actress  does  not  undergo  a  long  course 


FIRST  THEATRE  IN  THE  WORLD.  75 


of  study  in  a  state  institution,  and  there  is  not 
one  theatre  in  either  country  which  receives  any 
kind  of  help  from  the  public  treasury.  The 
stage  is  recruited  by  the  merest  chapter  of 
accidents,  and  even  courses  of  private  training 
are  rather  the  exception  than  the  rule.  An 
artiste  is  formed  at  the  hands  of  Nature,  the 
impulse  guiding  his  or  her  career  coming  from 
a  uniform  conviction  which  springs  up  intui- 
tively, one  which  may  be  galvanised  into  life 
by  the  most  trivial  incident ;  and  the  measure 
of  his  or  her  talent  gives  bias  to  inclination  and 
is  the  final  gauge  of  whatever  success  is  achieved. 
But  in  France  nearly  all  the  actors  and 
actresses  on  the  stage  are  taught  in  some 
training  school  of  art,  and  as  for  most  of 
them  the  Conservatoire  is  this  training  ground, 
so,  too  is  the  Comedie  Frangaise  that  theatre 
where  the  professional  career  reaches  its  fullest 
development. 

But  although  the  Fran^ais  is  the  "  first  thea- 
tre in  the  world,"  official  priority  in  Paris 
belongs  to  the  Grand  Opera;  this,  however, 
does  not  change  the  fact  that,  in  the  estimation 
of  all  true  amateurs  and  artistes,  the  Comedie 
Fran£aise  has  always  occupied  a  higher  position 
than  does  the  lyric  house  so  richly  aided  by  the 


76 


PARIS. 


French  Government,  although  of  course  the 
Franchise  receives  its  subvention  also. 

It  has  been  often  claimed,  and  it  may  be  true, 
that  Opera  companies  better,  in  nearly  every 
respect,  than  the  one  at  the  Paris  Academie 
Rationale  de  Musique  can  be  heard  in  other 
capitals,  but  certainly  there  is  no  theatre  of 
comedy  and  tragedy  elsewhere  which  can 
compare  with  the  "  Maison  de  Moliere  "  in  the 
brilliancy  of  the  histrionic  talent  that  its  com- 
pany possesses,  in  the  length  and  splendour  of 
its  history,  or  in  the  services  it  has  rendered 
to  dramatic  art  and  to  dramatic  literature. 
There  is  no  other  stage  like  it  which  is  con- 
sidered a  part  and  parcel  of  the  national  glory 
of  the  country  to  which  it  belongs.  Even 
England,  with  all  the  reverence  she  pretends 
for  the  memory  of  Shakespeare,  has  never 
founded  in  his  honour  an  institution  compar- 
able to  the  Maison  de  Moliere,  a  designation 
often  given  to  the  theatre  in  the  Rue  Richelieu, 
although  that  famous  author-actor  never  set 
his  foot  inside  the  house  that  was  recently  des- 
troyed, for  the  simple  reason  that  he  died 
nearly  a  century  before  it  was  erected.  But 
his  shade  and  his  genius  haunted  a  spot  where 
talented  artistes  played  his  pieces  with  pride 


NAPOLEON  AND  THE  STAGE.  77 


and  fervour  ;  and  although  the  French  Academy 
declined  to  receive  him  as  a  member,  and  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church  spurned  his  ashes 
and  refused  his  remains  Christian  burial,  he 
had  there  an  altar  around  which  numer- 
ous worshippers  assembled,  if  not  to  kneel,  at 
all  events  to  render  due  honour  to  his  immor- 
tality. 

When  he  was  not  at  wars,  Napoleon  went 
often  to  the  Theatre  Francais  to  hear  Talma 
(whom  he  admitted  to  his  friendship),  Damas, 
Lafon,  Madame  Duchesnon,  Madame  Roucourt, 
and  Mademoiselle  Georges.  He  had  a  weakness 
for  tragedy,  and  when  at  the  battle  front,  used 
to  have  artistes  come  and  play  for  him  wher- 
ever he  might  be.  They  were  with  him  at  May- 
ence  in  1804,  at  Erfurt  in  1808,  at  Dresden  in 
1813.  At  Erfurt  Talma  received  a  fee  of  ten 
thousand  francs  for  the  trip,  and  the  Emperor 
of  Russia  and  all  the  sovereigns  of  Germany, 
formed  on  this  occasion  what  was  appropriately 
called  "un  parterre  de  Rois."  The  play  was 
"JEdipe"  by  Voltaire,  and  when  Talma  pro- 
nounced the  line,  "  L'amitie  d'un  grand  homme 
est  un  bien  fait  des  dieux"  (A  great  man's 
friendship  is  a  blessing  that  comes  direct  from 
the  gods),  Alexander  of  Russia  threw  himself 


78 


PARIS, 


into  the  arms  of  Napoleon  in  the  presence  of  the 
entire  audience. 

Apropos,  allusions  which  are  made  on  the 
stage  to  passing  events  have  always  had  great 
importance  in  France,  and  were  the  object  of 
much  anxiety  to  the  master  of  ceremonies  at 
the  Court  of  Napoleon.  When  he  was  as  yet 
only  First  Consul,  Bonaparte  did  not  object  to 
hear  the  "  Merope  "  of  Voltaire,  in  which  occurs 
the  passage : 

"  Le  premier  qui  fut  roi,  fut  un  soldat  heureux  ; 
Qui  sert  bien  son  pays  n'a  pas  besoin  d'aieux" — 

(The  first  king  was  a  successful  soldier;  he 
who  hath  well  served  his  country  hath  no  need 
of  an  ancestry) ;  and  the  audience  never  failed 
to  point  the  fitness  of  the  allusion  with  loud 
applause.  But,  later,  when  he  began  to  think 
about  marrying  Marie-Louise,  "  Merope "  no 
longer  pleased  him  on  account  of  the  lines : 

"  J'ai  besoin  d'un  hymen  utile  a  ma  grandeur 
Qui  detourne  de  moi  le  nom  d'un  usurpateur." 

That  is  to  say :  "I  need  a  marriage  which  will 
add  to  my  grandeur  and  which  will  shield  me 
from  being  considered  a  usurper,"  which  too 
accurately  fitted  his  case.  That  tragedy  was 
therefore  scratched  out  from  the  repertoire. 


POLITICAL  ALLUSIONS  FORBIDDEN.  79 


When  Louis  XVIII  took  his  seat  on  the 
throne  of  his  ancestors,  he  also  was  in  the  habit 
of  going  to  the  Comedie  Fran^aise  in  search  of 
flattering  allusions,  and  when  the  tragedy  of 
"  Heraclius"  was  played,  the  line — "  Tyran, 
descends  du  trone  et  fais  place  k  ton  maitre  " 
(Tyrant,  step  down  from  the  throne  and  make 
room  for  thy  master),  always  drew  the  applause 
of  the  audience  and  caused  an  ovation  in  honour 
of  the  King.  Desirous  of  putting  an  end  to  all 
political  allusions  on  the  stage,  Louis  Philippe 
directed  that  tragedies  should  no  longer  be 
played  at  gala  performances,  and  that  the 
"Armide"  of  Oluck  should  take  their  place. 
This  is  the  most  inoffensive  piece  in  existence ; 
it  wounds  the  feelings  of  no  one,  and  is  inca- 
pable of  giving  rise  to  quarrels  between  sover- 
eigns, which  are  always  a  bad  thing  for  nations. 


CHAPTER  V. 


Anecdotes  of  French  actors  and  actresses — Histrionic 
ability  and  beauty  of  Mademoiselle  Mars — The 
production  of  an  apothecary — How  Napoleon  gave 
his  likeness  to  a  comedienne — A  theatre  where  the 
French  language  is  well  pronounced — The  roman- 
tic school  of  acting — Rows  over  plays — A  Paris 
theatre  governed  by  decrees  drawn  up  at  Moscow 
— Societaires  and  pensionnaires  in  the  company — 
Their  salaries  and  benefits — How  pieces  are 
received  or  rejected — Anecdotes  of  how  Dumas, 
Sardou,  Augier,  etc.,  read  their  plays  to  the 
committee — Museum  of  the  Comedie  Frangaise 
— Statue  of  Voltaire — Reminiscences  of  the  famous 
Foyer. 

Of  the  actors  and  actresses  who  played 
at  the  FraiKjaise  nearly  a  century  ago  it  would 
be  a  superfluous  task  to  discuss  the  talents, 
but  it  may  be  permitted  us  to  record  a  few  of 
their  peculiar  characteristics  and  to  account 
for  some  of  their  great  reputations.  At  the 
time  of  her  debut,  and  for  some  while  afterward, 
Mademoiselle  Mars  dazzled  the  public  by  her 
beauty  as  well  as  by  her  remarkable  histrionic 
abilities,  but  not  having  known  when  to  quit 


ANECDOTES  OF  FAMOUS  ACTRESSES.  81 


the  stage,  and  having  insisted  on  playing  the 
role  of  ingenues  up  to  the  very  last,  she  lost 
the  favour  of  the  public  towards  the  end  of  her 
long  career.  She  was  very  dressy,  and,  like 
her  comrade,  Mademoiselle  Devienne — one  of 
the  most  perfect  soubrettes  the  French  stage  has 
ever  possessed — she  led  the  fashions  during  the 
first  years  of  the  Empire.  Indeed  Made- 
moiselle Mars  had  made  a  contract  with  her 
modiste,  according  to  the  terms  of  which  the 
latter  agreed  not  to  a  create  "  hats  like  those 
she  wore  for  anybody  else  until  she  had  shown 
them  on  the  stage  or  on  the  streets  at  least  ten 
times.  At  Longchamps,  on  Easter  day,  or 
when  all  the  fashionable  world  of  Paris  went 
into  the  Champs  ^llysees  in  the  latest  styles, 
great  ladies  used  to  go  there  to  study  the  toi- 
lettes of  Devienne  and  Mars,  and  would  then 
imitate  them  in  a  slavish  manner. 

Never  did  any  Duchess  of  the  old  Court  of 
Versailles  know  how  to  manage  a  train  with 
more  grace  than  Devienne,  who  was  a  handsome 
creature,  as  was  shown  by  the  portrait  which 
the  Comedie  Fran^aise  possessed  of  her.  She 
retired  from  the  stage  in  1813,  after  a  career 
of  twenty-seven  years,  while  still  in  the  pos- 
session of  all  the  brilliancy  of  her  talents,  but 


82 


PARIS, 


Mademoiselle  Mars  did  not  have  the  good  sense 
to  follow  her  example.  When  the  latter  was 
nearly  sixty  years  old  she  created  the  leading 
part  in  "  Mile,  de  Belle-Isle,"  a  part  which  rep- 
resented a  young  girl  of  seventeen.  Mars  was 
self-willed,  overbearing,  and,  along  with  her 
great  talents,  was  very  vain.  Under  the  Res- 
toration she  had  it  announced  in  the  press  that 
she  was  going  to  play  "  dressed  out  in  all  her 
diamonds,  exactly  like  a  snuff-box."  This  was 
intended  as  a  hit  at  the  King  who  was  very 
fond  of  diamond  snuff-boxes  and  was  always 
making  presents  of  them  to  personnages.  The 
critics  were  very  hard  on  her  towards  the  end  of 
her  career,  and  one  of  them  wrote  :  "  Really  this 
ingenue  is  astonishing ;  she  still  manages  to 
walk  without  using  a  cane."  * 

Mademoiselle  Louise  Coutat  was  another  star 
who  shone  along  with  Mars  and  Devienne.  She 
had  a  good  deal  of  talent  and  it  was  said  of 
her  that  "  she  would  draw  the  applause  of  the 
audience  even  if  she  took  it  into  her  head  to 
read  her  dressmaker's  bill  to  them."  Made- 
moiselle Mars  was  once  congratulated  on  the 
way  in  which  she  played  the  rSle  of  Celimene, 
and  she  replied :  "  I  am  equal  to  Louise  Coutat 
in  that  character," 


LOVE  AFFAIRS  OF  FAMOUS  ACTRESSES.  83 


Mademoiselle  Bourgoin  was  also  remarkably 
handsome,  and  the  chroniquers  of  the  period 
used  to  declare  that  her  eyes  would  make  an 
Archbishop  dance.  She  was  in  the  good  graces 
of  Chaptal,  a  chemist  who  had  become  Minister 
of  the  Interior ;  she  had  a  son  by  him,  but  he 
showed  coldness  for  the  child,  so  one  day 
Bourgoin  threatened  that  if  he  did  not  display 
more  affection  for  his  offspring  she  would  go 
with  the  boy  to  the  Emperor  and  instruct  him 
to  fall  at  his  Majesty's  feet  and  say : 

"  Sire,  I  am  the  production  of  your  apothe- 
cary!  " 

Chaptal  had  rivals  who  contested  the  heart 
of  Bourgoin,  and  duels  galore  were  fought  on 
her  account.  A  marshal  of  France  killed  a 
young  man  to  whom  she  had  shown  some  little 
favour.  On  one  occasion  the  Emperor  went 
behind  the  curtain  at  the  Comedie  Francaise 
without  giving  notice  of  his  coming.  His  un- 
expected presence  so  powerfully  affected 
Bourgoin  that  she  fainted,  but  when  she  re- 
covered the  conqueror  of  Austerlitz  spoke  to 
her,  and  she  took  advantage  of  the  occasion  to 
ask  him  for  his  likeness,  whereupon  he  pulled 
out  a  five-franc  piece  and  gave  it  to  her.  This 
was  a  mere  pleasantry ;  but  he  atoned  for  it 


84 


PAEIS. 


the  next  day  by  sending  one  in  miniature,  set 
with  diamonds. 

Like  Hercules,  Napoleon  used  sometimes  to 
spin  at  the  feet  of  Omphale.  He  courted  some 
of  his  actresses,  but  he  courted  them  after  his 
own  fashion,  that  is  to  say,  abruptly  and  laconic- 
ally. Mademoiselle  Georges  was  told  to  come  to 
the  Tuileries,  to  take  part  in  a  private  conference, 
and  she  came  away  without  having  even  so 
much  as  exchanged  a  word  with  her  imperial 
accomplice. 

These  great  actresses  played  with  such  great 
actors  as  Talma,  Mol6,  Damas,  Saint-Prix,  Saint- 
Fel,  and  the  Baptistes,  and  never  was  the 
French  language  better  spoken  than  it  was  by 
them.  In  those  days  the  public  were  hard  to 
please  and  very  critical,  and  would  not  have 
tolerated  the  interpretation  of  chefs-d'oeuvre  of 
French  literature  by  actors  afflicted  with  a  faulty 
pronunciation,  no  matter  how  slight  it  might 
have  been.  Still  the  first  theatre  of  France  has 
always  been  a  school  where  everybody  went  to 
learn  how  to  speak  the  language,  and  the  French 
Academy  has  respected  its  decisions.  Its  actors 
are  personages  of  importance  and  occupy  a  rec- 
ognised position,  and  when  one  of  their  number 
dies  all  Paris  turns  out  to  attend  the  funeral. 


THE  BOM  ANTIC  SCHOOL. 


85 


But  if  the  interpreters  were  excellent,  the 
literature  of  the  First  Empire  was  execrable 
and  so  they  were  forced  to  stick  to  the  classic 
repertoire.  It  is  believed  that  never  has  the 
Theatre  Frangais  possessed  a  more  completely 
talented  troupe  than  that  which  Napoleon  I 
held  together,  and  yet  never  was  there  a  period 
of  greater  penury  in  Dramatic  Literature  than 
during  his  reign.  Things  were  no  better,  not 
even  so  good,  under  the  Restoration,  for  one  by 
one  the  artistes,  who  had  been  shining  with 
such  brilliancy,  began  to  quit  the  stage.  In 
1829  most  everything  changed  at  the  Fra^ais. 
The  Romantic  School  made  its  appearance  and 
restored  vigour  to  the  house  by  furnishing  pieces 
which  where  to  attract  audiences  and  arouse 
violent  literary  quarrels.  This  revival  began 
with  the  drama  of  "  Henri  III 17  by  Alexandre 
Dumas.  The  public  liked  it,  and  it  drew 
crowded  houses.  Victor  Hugo's  "  Hernani,  ou 
THonneur  Castillian,"  was  played  the  25th  of 
February,  1830,  and  the  rehearsals  had  been 
very  stormy. 

Mademoiselle  Mars  took  the  role  of  Dona 
Sol,  Forini  played  Hernani,  and  Michelot  was 
Don  Carlos.  Victor  Hugo,  who  as  yet  had 
neither  prestige  nor  authority,  had  to  fight 


86 


PARIS. 


daily  with  the  artistes  in  refuting  their  se- 
vere criticism.  Michelot  contended  that  the 
monologue  in  the  fourth  act  was  too  long  and 
that  no  actor  ever  existed  with  sufficient  lung 
power  to  get  ofF  such  a  tirade. 

Forini  did  not  give  the  author  much  trouble, 
but  Mars  was  merciless.  She  persisted  in 
invoking  her  experience  and  her  great  talent  as 
an  actress,  but  Hugo  would  not  allow  himself 
to  be  imposed  on  by  her  pretended  fears.  At 
last  the  curtain  went  up  ;  the  audience  was  di- 
vided into  two  hostile  camps — friends  of  the 
author  on  the  one  side  against  hardened  classics 
on  the  other.  People  in  the  pit  insulted  each 
other,  and  friends  and  enemies  came  out,  when 
it  was  all  over,  without  knowing  whether  the 
piece  had  proved  a  success  or  failure.  The  per- 
formance which  followed  was  even  more  noisy 
and  tumultuous  than  the  first  had  been,  and 
then  there  was  an  end  to  all  hesitation. 

After  the  battle  of  "  Hernani "  came  that  of 
"  Le  Roi  s' Amuse."  It  was  given  once  and 
then  further  performance  of  the  piece  was  for- 
bidden by  the  authorities.  This  gave  rise  to  a 
lawsuit  which  went  against  the  author,  on  the 
grounds  of  State  policy,  as  the  piece  was  re- 
garded as  wanting  in  the  respect  due  to  Roy- 


RECOMPENSE  OP  ARTISTES.  87 


-alty.  The  writer  was  present  at  the  second 
performance  in  Paris  of  that  same  play — it  used 
to  be  given  in  this  country  as  "  The  Fool's 
Revenge,"  by  the  late  Edwin  Booth — and  that 
was  fifty  years  after  the  first  performance. 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  the  Paris  theatre, 
officially  and  artistically  known  as  the  Comedie 
Frangaise,  and  for  which  the  Republic  has  done 
so  much — free  rent  of  the  building,  annual 
appropriation  of  fifty  thousand  dollars,  etc., — 
was  largely  governed  by  decrees  which  were 
written  and  signed  by  Napoleon  I,  while  at 
Moscow,  although  they  have  been  modified  in 
certain  details  since  then. 

Those  who  play  at  the  Frangais  are  Socie- 
taires,  who  take  rank  and  are  recompensed 
according  to  seniority,  as  a  rule,  and  Pension- 
naires,  the  former  being  usually  selected  from 
among  the  latter,  most  of  whom  studied  at  the 
Conservatoire.  Societaires  divide  among  them- 
selves the  house  profits  of  each  year  in  different 
proportions,  that  of  each  being  regulated  by  the 
number  of  " twelfths"  which  he  or  she  has 
been  awarded,  while  Pensionnaires  receive 
fixed  salaries  of  so  much  per  month. 

Every  year  a  balance  sheet  of  receipts  and 
expenses  is  drawn  up,  and  the  positive  differ- 


88 


PAEIS. 


ence  constitutes  the  amount  which  is  to  be 
divided  among  the  regular  members  of  the 
Corporation.  That  is  to  say,  these  profits  are 
divided  into  a  determined  number  of  parts, 
each  part  consisting  of  what  is  termed  a  twelfth. 
A  part  entilve  is  twelve-twelfths,  and  a  few  of 
the  Societaires  receive  this  much;  but  others 
have  a  right  only  to  seven-twelfths,  or  to  five- 
twelfths,  and  so  on  down  to  three-twelfths, 
which  is  about  the  usual  beginning.  In  the 
profits  a  part  entilre  is  also  paid  to  the  Admin- 
istrateur-General.  Besides  his  or  her  share  in 
the  profits,  the  Societaire  also  receives  a  sum 
for  each  performance,  which  varies;  but  he 
or  she  only  receives  one-half  of  said  share  at 
the  end  of  the  year,  the  other  half  being  put 
out  at  interest ;  and  they  can  only  obtain  this 
compulsory  savings  on  the  day  when  they  are 
permitted  to  retire  from  that  theatre.  It  may 
be  added  that  the  average  profits  of  a  whole 
part,  or  twelve-twelfths  Societaire  is  about 
four  thousand  dollars  annually. 

There  are  also  certain  Ministerial  allowances 
made  in  cash  by  the  Director  of  Fine  Arts 
granted  every  year,  and  finally  each  Societaire 
on  retiring  after  twenty  years  of  service,  has  a 
right,  besides  his  or  her  reserve  fund,  to  an 


THE  BEADING  COMMITTEE.  89 


annual  pension  of  five  thousand  francs  from  the 
theatre.  This  pension  is  augmented  by  two 
hundred  francs  for  each  year  of  service,  the 
pension  being  liquidated  proportionally;  but 
this  case  rarely  presents  itself. 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  pecuniary  situation 
of  members  of  the  Theatre  Fran§ais  is  not  at  all 
a  bad  one ;  and  when  age  or  infirmity  forces 
them  to  quit  the  stage  they  are  assured,  besides 
a  capital  which  varies  according  to  the  profits 
and  the  time  passed  in  the  house,  of  a  pension 
which  sometimes  rises  to  fourteen  or  sixteen 
hundred  dollars  annually.  If  they  receive  less 
than  certain  artistes  whose  large  salaries  are 
such  sources  of  envy  in  other  countries,  they  find 
a  consolation  in  their  situation  at  the  Comedie 
Franchise  and  which  assures  them  consideration 
in  the  present  and  comfort  in  the  future. 

Not  knowing  how  much  was  saved  and 
how  much  was  lost  when  the  Comedie  Fran- 
9aise  was  burned  in  1900,  I  do  not  dare  to 
say  too  much  about  its  choice  contents,  with 
which  I  was  somewhat  familiar.  But  there 
was  one  room  in  the  old  house  which  is 
well  worth  describing,  that  of  the  Reading 
Committee.  This  committee  met  once  a  week 
and   the   Administrateur    General  presided. 


90 


PARIS. 


The  reading  finished,  the  author  retired  and 
the  committee  voted  without  remarks  or  dis- 
cussion, each  member  placing  in  an  urn  a  white, 
a  red,  or  a  black  ball,  and  which  indicated 
respectively  "  positive  reception,"  "  reception 
subject  to  corrections,"  and  "  refusal."  This 
method  of  voting  was  adopted  in  consequence 
of  a  laughable  incident  which  happened  when 
members  of  the  committee  voted  ballots,  on 
which  he  or  she — women  could  belong  to  the 
committee  in  those  days,  but  they  cannot  now 
— had  to  give  an  opinion  in  writing,  to  be 
afterward  read  in  the  presence  of  the  author. 
One  day  a  play  in  verse  was  read  before  the 
committee;  the  reading  through,  summing  up 
of  votes  took  place,  and  the  Administrateur 
General  came  on  one  which  bore  the  signature 
of  the  leading  lady.  It  read  as  follows : 
"  Cette  petite  acte  m'a  paru  charmante,  mais  in- 
vraisemblable ;  je  la  refuse."  The  point  is,  she 
made  the  substantive  acte  feminine,  whereas  it 
is  masculine,  and  a  mischievous  weekly  paper 
printed  the  story  as  a  joke  on  the  committee. 

It  is  a  good  deal  of  an  art  to  read  a  play 
properly.  The  elder  Alexandre  Dumas  used 
to  like  it,  and  yet  he  always  read  badly.  He 
tried  to  vary  his  tone  according  to  the  dialogue 


READING  PIECES  AT  THE  FRANCAIS.  91 


required,  but  after  an  act  or  so,  his  voice 
settled  into  a  grave  and  monotonous  chant  which, 
almost  prevented  his  listeners  understanding  a 
word  of  what  he  was  reading.  Once  he  was 
congratulated  on  being  as  good  a  reader  as 
Schiller,  but  he  was  not  quite  convinced  as  to 
the  sincerity  of  this  remark,  and  so  he  asked 
Madame  Dorval,  the  leading  lady,  what  she 
thought  of  it.  "My  dear  Alexandre,"  said 
she,  "  I  am  inclined  to  be  of  their  opinion,  al- 
though I  think  you  have  one  superiority  over 
Schiller." 

"  In  what  way,  if  you  please  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Why,  you  read  worse  than  he  does." 

Victorine  Sardou  is  a  line  reader.  He  plays 
all  the  parts  of  his  piece,  waves  his  hands, 
throws  his  handkerchief  on  the  table,  picks  it 
up  again,  clutches  the  arm  of  his  chair  furiously, 
never  rants,  never  sinks  his  voice  too  low,  but 
acts  all  the  time  he  is  reading.  He  puts  every 
part  in  a  full  light  before  his  hearers,  and  they 
understand  his  play  well  when  he  has  finished. 
Emile  Augier  read  his  plays  simply  and  good- 
naturedly,  but  nothing  he  said  was  ever  lost  on 
the  committee.  Pailleron  read  in  a  pompous 
way,  and  was  not  always  understood ;  he  would 
often  interrupt   himself  with   some  audible 


92 


PARIS, 


remark  about  such  and  such  a  part  needing 
touching  up. 

On  what  we  would  call  the  "  prompt  side" 
of  the  stage  at  the  old  house  might  have  been 
seen  the  guignol,  or  little  shed,  in  which 
artistes  changed  their  costumes  when  in  a  great 
hurry ;  also  the  loge,  or  office,  of  the  semanier, 
wherein  he  wrote  out  his  daily  report.  From 
this  office  a  door  opened  into  a  tolerably  good- 
sized  sitting-room  which  was  connected  with 
one  of  the  proscenium  boxes  by  a  private  pas- 
sage, thus  forming  a  suite  of  rooms.  This  was 
the  private  box  of  the  Administrateur  General, 
and  it  was  the  identical  box  which  Napoleon  I 
made  use  of.  He  had  a  private  key  to  the 
door  just  mentioned,  and  was  in  the  habit  of 
going  back  on  the  stage  to  see  Talma,  or 
Mademoiselle  Georges.  On  the  opposite  side 
of  the  house,  and  next  to  the  stage,  was  the 
private  box  of  the  President  of  the  Republic. 
The  dressing-rooms  of  all  the  actors  and 
actresses  in  that  theatre  were  most  excellent ; 
in  this  one  thing  alone,  if  there  were  no  other, 
the  artistes  of  the  Comedie  Fran§aise  were  per- 
haps better  cared  for  than  are  the  players  of 
any  other  theatre  on  earth. 

There  was  almost  a  kind  of  Museum  con- 


AN  INTERESTING  MUSEUM.  93 


nected  with  the  old  Comedie  Frangaise;  for 
there  was  sufficient  material  in  the  house  to 
form  a  most  respectable  museum,  but  the 
articles  had  never  been  gathered  together  in 
one  common  gallery.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  all 
these  many  things,  these  precious  relics,  these 
unique  documents  were  preserved  from  de- 
struction by  the  calamity  of  1900,  as  they  were 
not  only  very  valuable  and  interesting,  but 
also  very  curious  and  entertaining.  Ten  or  a 
dozen  years  ago  some  one  off ered  a  part  of  Tal- 
ma's heart,  in  a  bottle,  to  the  Comedie.  Now 
the  heart  of  a  tragedian,  who  was  the  friend 
of  an  emperor,  a  heart  which  had  palpitated 
with  all  the  loves,  all  the  sorrows,  all  the  joys 
of  life,  which  had  concealed  the  most  singular 
mixture  of  real  and  artificial  amours,  of  con- 
tradictory passions,  and  opposing  sentiments, 
certainly  this  was  a  relic  of  great  value.  So  of 
course  the  Administration  accepted  it,  perhaps 
with  a  vague  hope  that  it  would  serve  as  a 
"  Mascot "  and  attract  other  donations  to  the 
house.  Still  it  could  not  have  been  wholly 
that,  for  proof  was  soon  shown  to  the  contrary. 
Mademoiselle  Duchesnois  was  a  great  trage- 
dienne who  shared  the  triumphs  of  Talma.  On 
her  death-bed  she  willed  one  of  her  hands  to  a 


94 


PARIS. 


friend ;  it  was  cut  off,  properly  cured,  and  de- 
livered to  its  inheritor.  Soon  after  Talma's 
heart  had  been  accepted  this  mummified  hand 
of  the  once  illustrious  actress  was  offered  to  the 
"  Museum  "  of  the  Fran£ais,  but  it  was  refused. 
"  The  Museum  of  the  Comedy  ought  to  be  a  col- 
lection of  works  of  Art  and  of  literary  docu- 
ments, not  an  anatomical  gallery,"  said  Mon- 
sieur Jules  Claretie  at  the  time,  and  he  was 
quite  right.  We  may  worship  gifted  actresses 
while  they  are  living,  even  guard  pious  souve- 
nirs of  those  of  them  who  once  charmed  us,  but 
we  should  draw  the  line  at  making  a  collection 
of  their  skeletons,  whether  as  a  whole  or  in 
pieces.  It  was  a  caricaturist  of  modern  date 
who  showed  to  a  "  Globe  trotter,"  visiting 
Stratford-on-Avon,  two  skulls  of  William 
Shakespeare,  one  of  the  immortal  poet  and 
play- writer  as  a  child,  the  other  of  him  after  his 
death.  Time  was  when  a  bit  of  Agnes  Sorel's 
hair  and  a  fragment  from  Moliere's  jawbone 
were  exhibited  at  the  Cluny  Museum  ;  this  lat- 
ter specimen  of  literary  osteology  found  its  way 
to  the  Pran^ais,  and  was  in  its  Museum,  but 
whatever  became  of  the  curly  lock  of  the  once 
fair  Agnes  no  one  knows.  The  anatomical 
section  of  the  Comedian's  Museum  consisted 


PAINTINGS  AND  STATUARY.  95 


therefore  of  the  fragment  of  a  heart,  ditto  of  a 
jawbone,  and  some  filaments  that  once  grew  on 
the  head  of  Talma. 

That  Museum  was,  however,  infinitely  rich  in 
articles  of  much  greater  value  from  the  artistic 
and  literary  point  of  view.  The  general  public, 
which  only  saw  in  the  Grand  Stairway,  the 
Peristyle,  and  the  Foyer  a  certain  number  of 
busts  and  statues  had  no  idea  whatever,  or  at 
least  but  an  imperfect  one,  of  the  great  treasures 
which  the  house  contained.  The  "  Musee 
Moliere,"  as  it  was  often  termed,  contained 
something  like  two  hundred  oil  paintings,  nearly 
a  hundred  water  colours,  drawings,  and  engrav- 
ings, ninety  odd  statues  and  busts  in  marble 
and  plaster,  ten  in  bronze,  fifteen  in  terre  cuite, 
or  baked  clay,  and  twenty  statuettes  or  figur- 
ines in  Sevres  porcelain.  Undoubtedly  there 
were  some  inferior  works  among  the  lot,  but 
even  the  most  mediocre  of  them  offered  real 
historical  interest  and  gave  one  the  opportunity 
of  making  a  complete  study  of  French  comedi- 
ans in  past  centuries.  In  1743  the  first  canvas 
of  this  collection  was  given  to  the  Theatre 
Frangais  by  one  of  the  "  Comediennes  du 
Roi,"  Marie  Anne  de  Chateauneuf  Du  Clos, 
and  it  was  her  own  portrait  in  the  rdle  of 


96 


PARIS. 


Ariane,  painted  by  Largilliere.  The  second 
portrait  to  reach  the  house  was  that  of  Baron, 
by  Troy ;  but  it  was  much  smaller  than  the 
one  just  mentioned,  which  fact  displeased  cer- 
tain visitors  "  behind  the  scenes  "  who  believed 
in  democratic  equality,  and  their  indignant 
protests  impelled  the  Comedians  to  enlarge 
it  by  sewing  a  wide  band  of  canvas  all  about 
it,  after  which  it  was  framed  again.  In  No- 
vember, 1777,  Monsieur  Caffieri,  a  sculptor  of 
talent,  gave  the  Frangais  a  fine  bust  of  Pierre 
Corneille.  A-  year  later  he  also  gave  one  of 
Thomas  Corneille,  a  copy  of  the  original  by 
Jouvenet,  which  was  owned  by  Countess  de 
Bonville.  Whereupon,  in  the  way  of  thanks, 
the  Comedians  accorded  his  "  entrees,7 5  or  free 
admittance  to  the  theatre,  to  Jean  Jacques 
Caffieri. 

I  used  to  spend  some  pleasant  hours  in  the 
Foyer  of  the  old  Comedie  Francaise,  looking 
around  as  my  mind  called  up  the  many  sou- 
venirs with  which  the  place  was  crowded.  One 
may  mock  at  tradition,  and  sneer  at  souvenirs, 
but  there  is  a  sentimental  side  to  life  which  is 
quite  agreeable  for  some  of  us.  At  any  rate, 
it  was  in  tradition  and  in  souvenirs  that  lay  the 
power  of  La  Comedie.     There  as  elsewhere 


THE  SENATE  OP  DRAMATIC  ART.  97 


innovations  had  to  be  made,  of  course,  but  it  was 
always  done  with  infinite  precautions.  "  Things 
are  not  done  here  as  they  are  done  elsewhere," 
said  Verteuil,  early  in  our  acquaintance,  and 
with  his  grave  air  of  an  Under  Secretary  of 
State.  And  right  he  was  too.  In  the  world  of 
letters  as  in  the  world  of  politics,  there  is  need 
for  a  conservative  Senate,  and  the  Com^die 
Francaise  has  always  been  the  senate  of  dra- 
matic art.  The  very  manners  of  its  venerable 
coulisses  had  a  stamp  which  could  not  escape 
the  attentive  observer.  Wit  was  frank  there 
and  was  so  from  tradition,  but  gallantry  was 
always  discreet  within  its  walls.  There  were 
liaisons,  but  there  are  never  any  scandals  con- 
nected with  those  sort  of  things  at  the  Fran<jais. 
It  is  Colombine  who  says  of  French  actresses 
that  they  are  monsters;  and  it  would  seem 
that  love  is  as  indispensable  to  their  success  as 
professionals  as  is  the  Conservatoire  to  the 
beginning  of  their  career.  The  cold-looking 
Foyer  heard  the  low  voice  of  passion  and  the 
merry  confessions  of  many  a  caprice.  Decently, 
but  without  hypocrisy,  la  galanterie  admitted 
there  those  charming  weaknesses  which  are 
such  a  source  of  strength  for  dramatic  art. 
Actors  are  men  who  have  no  need  of  excitants 


98 


PARIS. 


in  order  to  move  their  audiences,  but  not  so 
with  actresses.  Even  the  best  instructed  of  the 
latter  have  to  follow  instinct  which  is  with 
them  the  principal,  the  all-important  quality. 
And  however  penetrating  may  be  the  female 
mind,  there  are  sensations  which  they  can 
never  divine,  which  they  can  never  express 
if  they  have  not  known  them.  Diderot, 
who  always  spoke  of  the  art  of  acting  with 
genius,  wished  that  the  actor  might  have 
experienced  the  feelings  that  he  was  to  give 
expression  to,  but  at  the  same  time  would  re- 
main master  of  himself  in  expressing  them ; 
that  there  should  take  place  in  the  actor's  mind 
a  sort  of  crystallisation  of  life  or  rather  that  he 
should  possess  that  peculiar  faculty  of  duplica- 
tion which  would  make  in  him  two  men  cease- 
lessly watching  and  studying  each  other,  one 
feeling  and  experiencing  the  actual  living  sen- 
sations while  the  other  brought  them  to  the 
state  that  art  demanded.  He  held  that  these 
two  things  were  indispensable,  and  perhaps 
they  are  found  in  the  case  of  most  actresses. 
It  is  on  this  account  that  they  make  such  poor 
wives.  In  the  moments  when  there  should  be 
only  tender  intimacies  between  man  and  wife, 
or  thought  of  children,  actresses  are  thinking 


FRENCH  ACTRESSES  MAKE  POOR  WIVES.  99 


of  the  stage  and  of  the  public.  They  live  in  a 
fictitious  woild  ;  and  this  peculiar  condition  of 
the  heart,  of  the  senses,  can  it  be  a  good  thing 
for  a  man  whom  an  actress  loves  ?  I  leave  to 
others  the  task  of  answering  the  question.  I 
only  point  out  that  it  exists,  and  in  this  I  am 
in  agreement  with  the  traditions  of  the  Comedie 
Frangaise. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


The  Paris  Conservatory — Founded  one  hundred  and 
eighteen  years  ago — Talma  was  its  first  great  gradu- 
ate— How  the  music  of  the  "  Chant  du  Depart  " 
was  composed — Present  organisation  of  the  famous 
institution — Four  annual  competitions  held — State 
control  over  all  graduates — The  Conservatoire 
buildings — Now  a  Musical  College  and  Dramatic 
School — Its  chief  aim  and  purpose — A  liberal, 
theoretic,  and  practical  system  of  education — The 
good  results  obtained. 

Haviito  thus,  rather  incompletely,  described 
the  highest  examples  of  Lyric  and  Dramatic 
Art  at  Paris,  let  us  turn  to  that  State  Institution, 
where  so  many  successful  French  singers,  actors 
and  instrumentalists  were  taught  the  beginnings 
of  their  calling.  The  Conservatoire  de  Musique 
was  founded  by  Baron  de  Breteuil,  and  was 
managed  by  Gosse,  by  virtue  of  a  royal  decree, 
dated  January  3,  1784.  In  June,  1786,  a  class 
of  Dramatic  Declamation  was  added,  and  Mole, 
Dugazon  and  Fleury,  "  Comedians  of  the  King," 
were  appointed  professors.    The  first  lesson 


THE  FAMOUS  CONSERVATORY.  101 


was  given  by  Dugazon,  and  the  first  pupil  who 
graduated  belonged  to  this  class  ;  his  name  was 
Talma  and  he  made  his  debut  at  the  Theatre 
Francais  in  1787.  Later  on  Bernard  Sarrette 
became  head  of  the  concern.  He  was  a  Captain 
in  the  Garde  Rationale,  and  got  up  a  band  of 
forty-five  musicians,  composed  of  the  members 
of  the  band  of  the  old  Gardes  Frangaises. 

The  city  assumed  the  expense  of  this  band  in 
May,  1790,  and  increased  the  number  to  seventy ; 
two  years  later  the  Commune  decreed  the  es- 
tablishment of  a  gratuitous  school  for  the  band, 
and  provided  for  the  instruction  of  one  hundred 
and  twenty  pupils  between  the  ages  of  ten  and 
sixteen,  who  were  without  knowledge  of  music, 
or  between  eighteen  and  twenty  if  they  knew 
music.  "  The  Institution  National  de  Musique," 
founded  by  decree  the  18th  Brumaire  (year  2), 
was  located  in  the  Rue  Saint  Joseph ;  Sarrette 
was  at  the  head  of  it,  and  he  got  into  trouble 
because  a  pupil  had  played  "  O  Richard  !  O 
Mon  Roi ! "  on  his  trombone.  Saretta  was 
thrown  into  prison,  but  was  allowed  to  come  out 
under  guard  in  order  to  take  charge  of  the 
musical  part  of  the  "  Fete  de  l7£tre  Supreme." 
The  15th  Prairial  (June  3,  1794),  he  received 
from  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety  an  order, 


102 


PARIS. 


signed  Carnot,  Barrere  and  Robert  Lindet,  to 
teach  a  patriotic  hymn,  for  which  Gosse  had 
composed  the  music,  and  Robespierre  held  him 
responsible  for  its  good  execution.  The  hymn 
was  executed  on  the  Champ  de  la  Reunion,  now 
the  Champ  de  Mars,  the  20th  Prairial,  by  a 
vast  number  of  musicians,  including  one  hun- 
dred drummers,  the  last  strophe  being  accom- 
panied by  volleys  of  artillery. 

It  was  while  concealed  in  the  house  of  Sar- 
rette  that  Chenier  wrote  the  words  of  the 
"  Chant  du  Depart,"  in  celebration  of  the 
fourth  anniversary  of  the  taking  of  the  Bastille. 
Mehul  composed  the  music  off-hand,  standing 
up  at  the  chimney,  in  a  room  full  of  people,  all 
of  whom  were  talking ;  and  it  was  executed  for 
the  first  time  by  the  orchestra  and  chorus  of 
the  Conservatoire.  General  Bonaparte,  who 
was  present,  believed  that  it  would  excite 
military  ardour  and  courage,  and  had  it  placed 
among  the  National  airs.  In  1795  the  Conven- 
tion passed  a  decree  suppressing  the  band  of 
the  National  Guard,  also  the  School  of  Singing 
and  Declamation ;  but  that  same  day  a  law 
was  promulgated  creating  the  Conservatoire 
de  Musique,  assigning  it  to  its  present  quarters 
in  the  Rue  du  Faubourg  Poissonniere,  and  plac- 


ITS  EARLY  HISTORY.  103 


ing  it  under  the  control  of  five  inspectors  and 
four  professors,  an  appropriation  of  $48,000 
being  made  at  the  same  time  for  the  support  of 
the  Institution.  A  year  later  Sarrette  was  again 
placed  at  the  head  of  the  school,  and  classes 
were  opened  for  the  first  time  in  1796. 

In  1806  Napoleon  I  added  a  School  of  Dec- 
lamation to  the  Conservatoire  and  ordered  that 
board  should  be  furnished  to  eleven  male  and 
six  female  pupils  at  the  expense  of  the  State. 
Monvel,  Dugazon,  Dazincourt  and  Lafond  were 
appointed  Professors  of  Declamation  and  they 
began  their  lessons  in  April,  1807.  In  1809 
Talma  succeeded  Dazincourt.  Sarrette  was 
removed  from  his  place  as  Director  in  November, 
1815,  and  the  school  was  closed;  two  years 
later  an  "]£cole  Royale  de  Musique  et  Decla- 
mation "  was  created  and  Perne  was  appointed 
its  manager ;  but  in  1822  the  Conservatoire  was 
re-established,  and  Cherubini  was  placed  at  its 
head.  Male  pupils  were  now  boarded  in  the 
Institution,  and  at  the  end  of  1824  the  classes 
in  Declamation  were  revived. 

The  present  organisation  of  the  Conservatoire, 
that  is  to  say,  the  studies,  is  divided  into  eight 
sections,  viz. :  1  Enseignment  complementaire — 
solfeggio  (collective  and   individual),  clavier, 


104 


PAEIS. 


roles)  2.  Singing;  3.  Lyric  declamation ;  4.  Pi- 
ano and  harp ;  2.  Wind  instruments,  flute,  haut- 
bois,  clarinet,  horn,  bassoon,  trumpet,  cornet  k 
piston,  trombone  6.  Bow  instruments,  violin, 
violoncello,  counterbass ,  7.  Harmony,  organ  and 
composition  (counterpoint,  fugue  and  ideal  com- 
position) ;  8.  Dramatic  declamation.  Each  sec- 
tion is  divided  into  classes — there  are  fourteen 
for  solfeggio,  four  for  fingerboard  (two  male  and 
two  female),  one  for  study  of  rdles,e\ght  for  sing- 
ing, four  for  violin,  two  for  violoncello,  one  for 
counterbass,  one  for  flute,  one  for  hautbois,  one 
for  clarinet,  one  for  bassoon,  one  for  French  horn, 
one  for  trumpet,  one  for  cornet,  one  for  bugle, 
one  for  instrumental  ensemble,  two  for  written 
harmony  for  men,  four  for  harmony  and  accom- 
paniment (two  male  and  two  female),  one  for 
organ,  four  for  composition,  five  for  dramatic 
declamation  (three  male  and  two  female),  one 
for  dancing  and  carriage,  and  one  for  fencing. 
The  Institution  is  under  a  Director,  who  is 
aided  by  two  Boards  of  Instruction,  one  for  the 
musical,  the  other  for  the  dramatic  studies,  and 
which  are  independent  of  each  other,  except 
when  called  on  to  form  the  Conseil  Superieur, 
which  deals  with  matters  relating  to  the  general 
interests  of  the  Conservatoire.    All  the  Pro- 


THE  ANNUAL  COMPETITIONS.  105 


fessors  are  members  of  one  or  the  other  Board, 
and  beside  the  Professors  the  Board  of  Musical 
Instruction  is  composed  of  certain  Government 
Officials  (the  Director  of  Fine  Arts  and  the 
Chief  of  the  Bureau  of  Theatres),  etc.  Besides 
the  Professors  the  Board  of  Dramatic  Instruc- 
tion is  composed  of  the  two  Government  offi- 
cials just  mentioned,  and  of  two  dramatic 
authors,  while  the  personnel  of  the  Conserva- 
toire includes  two  secretaries,  two  clerks,  two 
librarians,  a  conservator  and  a  number  of  ser- 
vants, all  appointed  by  the  Minister  of  Fine 
Arts  on  the  recommendation  of  the  Director  of 
the  Conservatoire. 

There  are  four  concours,  or  competitions,  held 
at  the  Conservatoire  during  the  year.  The  first, 
in  October,  is  the  competition  for  admission  to 
the  classes ;  the  second,  in  January,  is  the  com- 
petition for  pensions,  or  annual  allowances ;  the 
third,  in  June,  is  an  examination  for  admission 
to  the  fourth,  or  final,  annual  competition  held 
during  the  month  of  July.  All  pupils  without 
exception  undergo  the  January  and  June  com- 
petition. Only  those  who  are  applicants  for 
admission  as  pupils  take  part  in  the  October 
one,  and  only  those  who  have  successfully  passed 
the  one  of  June  are  permitted  to  show  them- 


106 


PARIS. 


selves  in  the  J uly  contest.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
applicants  must  have  been  born  in  France,  and 
be  over  nine  and  under  twenty-two  years  of  age ; 
but  foreign-born  persons  may  also  be  admitted 
with  the  consent  of  the  Minister,  who  has  also 
power  to  make  exceptions  to  the  rule  as  to 
limits  of  age  in  cases  that  he  considers  especially 
deserving  of  such  a  favour.  Frequently  appli- 
cants who  live  in  the  provinces  are  allowed  their 
expenses  of  coming  to  Paris  and  staying  there 
during  the  examinatioil. 

There  is  no  appeal  from  the  decisions 
of  the  "  Comites  d'examen,"  or  Juries 
of  Examination,  but  the  Director  can,  at  his 
pleasure,  admit  pupils  to  certain  classes,  while 
those  who  fail  to  pass  the  examination,  if  they 
have  shown  any  talent  whatever,  can  obtain 
permission  to  attend  the  classes  as  auditors. 
Persons  who  are  much  older  than  any  of  the 
pupils  are  also  permitted  to  attend  these  classes 
as  auditors.  I  have  seen  English  and  Ameri- 
can actors  and  actresses  of  middle  age,  and  who 
had  already  gained  reputation  on  the  stage, 
thus  passing  their  spare  hours  in  Paris  study- 
ing at  the  feet  of  Got  or  of  Delaunay.  The 
time  for  pupils  to  remain  at  the  Conservatoire 
varies.    They  cannot  be  sent  away  during  the 


EVERYTHING  IS  EEEE  TO  ALL.  107 


first  year,  but  the  length,  of  time  after  that 
depends  on  their  progress. 

No  charge  of  any  kind  whatever  is  made  or 
fees  exacted ;  everything  is  free,  and  in  certain 
cases  pecuniary  aid  is  given  to  meritorious 
pupils.  The  male  and  female  pupils  are  taught 
in  separate  classes  except  in  those  of  Lyric  and 
Dramatic  Declamation,  and  the  mothers  of 
female  pupils  are  allowed  to  be  present  during 
the  lessons.  Each  professor  is  required  to  give 
three  lessons  of  two  hours  each  per  week,  and 
the  unexcused  failure  to  give  three  lessons  in 
any  one  month  results  in  a  forfeiture  of  his  or 
her  salary  for  that  month.  A  pupil  who  misses 
two  lessons  a  month  without  being  excused  is 
dropped  from  the  rolls.  No  pupil  is  permitted 
to  enter  into  an  engagement  to  play  on  the 
stage  or  in  an  orchestra  without  the  authorisa- 
tion of  the  Director.  By  a  Ministerial  decree 
it  was  ordered  that  all  pupils  entering  the 
Conservatoire  shall  contract  an  obligation  to 
hold  themselves  during  three  months  after 
graduation  at  the  disposal  of  the  Minister  of 
Public  Instruction  and  Fine  Arts  for  engage- 
ment at  one  of  the  State  theatres,  and  the 
salaries  for  such  engagements  are  also  fixed  by 
law.    That  is  to  say,  the  pupil  is  insured  a 


108 


PAEIS. 


positive  annual  salary  for  three  years  at  tlie 
Opera,  at  the  Opera  Comique,  at  the  Theatre 
Fran£ais,  or  at  the  Odeon,  but  of  course  the 
management  at  either  of  these  houses  may  in- 
crease such  salary,  and  it  is  often  done. 

At  the  final  annual  concours  a  first  and  a 
second  prize  and  three  accessits,  or  mentions, 
for  each  sex  are  awarded  to  pupils  competing 
in  the  same  line  of  study.  Pupils  of  the  same 
sex  and  in  the  same  line  of  study  compete  to- 
gether for  these  prizes,  but  in  the  Declamation 
classes  the  male  and  female  pupils,  while  com- 
peting at  the  same  time,  do  not  compete  against 
each  other,  and  no  pupil  who  has  not  been  at 
the  Conservatoire  more  than  six  months,  or 
who  has  ever  made  a  debut  on  the  stage,  is 
allowed  to  compete.  The  juries  at  this  concours 
are  the  same  as  at  the  other  examinations,  ex- 
cept in  the  Declamation  classes,  where  the 
whole  jury  is  composed  of  persons  not  con- 
nected with  the  Institution.  The  members  of 
the  Composition  class,  that  is  to  say,  Music 
composition,  compete  each  year  for  a  prize 
known  as  the  Grand  Prix,  which  gives  the  win- 
ner exemption  from  military  service,  and  a 
State  aid,  or  pension,  of  six  hundred  dollars 
annually  during  five  years,  which  time  he  must 


SITE  OF  THE  CONSERVATOIRE.  109 


spend  in  Italy  and  Germany  studying  the 
musical  works  of  those  countries.  On  his  re- 
turn to  France,  the  "  Grand  Prix"  has  the 
right  to  have  a  piece  composed  by  him  brought 
out  at  one  of  the  subventioned  theatres  where 
musical  works  are  given. 

The  Conservatoire  buildings  occupy  an  entire 
square  of  land,  with  the  principal  entrance  on 
the  Rue  Faubourg  Poissonniere.  On  this 
same  ground  formerly  stood  the  mansion,  stables, 
and  dependencies  of  "  Monsieur  1'Intendant  des 
Menus  Plaisirs  du  Roi."  Under  the  Regency 
it  was  the  residence  of  a  great  grandson  of 
Conde,  who  was  nicknamed  "  Count  Collet " 
because  he  was  short  and  fat.  He  resided  in 
the  ancestral  Hotel  de  Conde,  in  the  Faubourg 
Saint  Germain,  but  the  house  in  the  Faubourg 
Poissonniere  was  where  he  spent  much  of  his 
time  with  a  certain  lady  who  presented  him 
with  two  daughters,  afterwards  legitimised, 
however,  by  Royal  decree.  After  the  death  of 
the  Count  the  property  was  purchased  by  the 
Crown  for  the  purpose  of  creating  an  establish- 
ment known  as  the  " Menus  Plaisirs"  of  the 
King.  By  and  by  it  became  a  store  house  for 
the  decorations  and  scenery  used  at  Court 
Balls ;  and  when  the  Opera  was  burned,  the 


110 


PARIS. 


company,  while  the  Porte  Saint  Martin  Theatre 
was  being  built  for  them,  gave  their  perform- 
ances in  it.  The  buildings  form  a  quadrangle 
which  contains  a  theatre  of  wonderful  acoustic 
qualities,  a  concert  hall,  and  numerous  class 
rooms.  There  is  also  a  large  library,  and  a 
fine  instrumental  museum. 

The  Conservatoire  is  the  great  Musical  Col- 
lege and  Dramatic  School  of  Prance,  an  Institu- 
tion where  pupils  are  instructed  in  the  laws  gov- 
erning those  fine  arts,  and  where  the  healthy 
traditions  of  the  French  School  of  Music  are 
preserved  and  transmitted  as  they  were  re- 
ceived from  the  classic  masters.  But  the  Paris 
Conservatoire  cannot  give  genius  to  those  who 
do  not  already  possess  it.  Its  mission  is  to 
develop  the  creative  faculties,  to  inspire  a  love 
for  a  thorough  study  of  the  art,  to  form  a  cor- 
rect taste  in  its  pupils,  to  resist  the  changing 
caprices  of  fashion,  to  combat  all  dangerous  or 
evil  tendencies.  Such  were  the  ideas  of  its 
earliest  Directors  ;  such  was  the  idea  of  Auber, 
and  such  was  the  idea  of  Ambroise  Thomas, 
who  preceded  the  present  able  head  of  the 
establishment. 

It  is  to  the  unity  of  the  views  of  all  the  men 
who  have  presided  over  the  Conservatoire  since 


DESTRUCTION  OF  THE  BASTILLE. 


EXCELLENCE  OF  ITS  METHODS.  Ill 


the  commencement  of  the  nineteenth  century 
that  are  due  whatever  good  results  have  been 
obtained — -results  which  at  least  has  rendered 
the  Institution  celebrated  throughout  the 
world.  The  methods  taught  have  been  adopted 
in  other  schools,  its  text  books  have  been  trans- 1 
lated  into  many  languages.  It  is  to  these 
methods  that  is  due  that  elegance  of  execution 
for  which  French  orchestras  are  noted,  and 
certainly  the  best  singers  that  the  French 
lyric  stage  possesses  were,  with  very  few  ex- 
ceptions, taught  how  to  sing  at  the  Paris  Con- 
servatoire. 

But  if  the  seventy  professors,  who  instruct 
these  pupils,  are  untiring  in  their  work,  it  must 
also  be  said  that  the  French  Government  has 
placed  at  their  disposal  resources  which  no 
similar  institution  possesses.  There  is  nothing 
lacking  that  will  aid  the  pupils  in  acquiring 
complete  knowledge  of  the  branch  of  Art  they 
are  following.  Lessons  and  books?  talented 
instructors,  printed  and  manuscript  scores, 
ancient  and  modern  instruments,  private 
practice  and  practice  before  the  public — in  a 
word,  all  that  speaks  to  the  mind,  that  pro- 
vokes instructive  and  useful  comparisons,  that 
stimulates  ardour  in  study,  that  begets  noble 


112 


PARIS. 


ambitions  are  within  its  walls  for  pupils,  and 
everything  is  free.  The  system  of  education 
is  liberal,  theoretic,  and  practical.  It  has 
formed  many  great  masters,  it  has  turned  out 
many  distinguished  artistes  and  virtuosi,  and  it 
is  indeed  an  Institution  worthy  of  the  capital 
and  worthy  of  the  French  nation. 


PART  TWO. 

"  Her  very  frowns  are  fairer  far 
Than  smiles  of  other  maidens  are." 


[Hartley  Coleridge. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


The  great  work  of  the  Third  Kepublic — How  the  Cap- 
ital has  been  improved  and  embellished — The 
bridges  of  Paris — Thirty  of  them  within  the  city 
limits — The  Bievre  rivulet — Course  of  the  Eiver 
Seine  through  historic  grounds — Battlefield  be- 
tween the  people  and  the  Eoyal  Guards — Treasure 
trove — The  famous  Pont  Neuf — Palace  of  the 
Legion  d'Honneur — A  bridge  constructed  of  stones 
from  the  old  Bastille — The  Quai  d'Orsay — Wan- 
derings of  the  river — Some  sixty  different  quays 
along  its  shores — Numerous  curiosity  shops  in  the 
Quai  Voltaire — Old  prints,  old  portraits  and  old 
volumes — The  land  of  wholesale  wine  merchants. 

CoMEsra  now  to  present  Paris,  it  must  be 
admitted  by  every  one  that  the  Third  Kepub- 
lic has  done  its  full  share  towards  enriching, 
embellishing,  enlarging  and  improving  the 
capital.  There  is,  for  instance,  the  magnificent 
Hotel  de  Ville  already  mentioned,  several  Mar- 
ket Houses,  and  the  Palais  du  Trocadero,  built 
at  the  time  of  the  Universal  Exhibition  of 
1878,  and  which  forms  a  striking  part  of  dec- 
orative Paris.    New   churches,  new  bridges, 


116 


PARIS. 


new  railway  stations,  new  theatres,  new  col- 
leges, new  boulevards,  and  new  parks,  have 
also  been  fostered  by  the  Republic.  It  is  true 
that  new  bridges  were  constructed  by  the 
"  Wise  King/'  very  long  ago,  but  there  was 
not  enough  of  them,  and  the  people  grumbled. 
In  those  days,  and  for  a  long  while  afterwards, 
all  bridges  were  covered  with  houses  along 
their  sides  so  that  teams  and  persons  passing 
through  the  narrow  way  saw  next  to  nothing 
of  the  stream  below.  These  buildings  were 
owned  by  the  city,  which  rented  them  at  high 
prices  ;  but  there  are  none  of  those  old  bridges 
now,  however.  From  the  point  where  the 
river  enters  the  city  at  Bercy,  until  it  leaves 
the  city  at  Auteuil,  a  distance  of  nearly  nine 
miles,  the  Seine  is  spanned  by  thirty  bridges, 
nearly  every  one  of  which  was  constructed 
within  the  nineteenth  century,  and  many  are 
the  work  of  the  Third  Republic.  The  first 
bridge  under  which  the  river  passes,  entering 
the  capital,  is  a  railway  and  carriage  structure 
that  was  built  by  Napoleon  III  at  a  cost  of 
$450,000.  Then  it  was  called  the  Pont  Na- 
poleon, but  now  it  is  the  Pont  National,  and  it 
forms  the  connecting  link  between  the  Porte  de 
Bercy  and  the  Porte  de  la  Gare,  as  the  two 


OLD  AND  NEW  BRIDGES.  117 


entrances  through  the  fortifications  at  this 
point,  on  the  right  and  left  banks  of  the  river, 
are  called.  Next  we  have  the  Pont  de  Tolbiac, 
one  of  the  newest  bridges  across  the  Seine.  It 
is  a  splendid  structure  of  five  stone  arches, 
uniting  the  Quai  de  Bercy — where  all  the  vast 
wine-cellars  and  bonded  warehouses  of  the 
capital  are  located — to  the  Quai  de  la  Gare, 
where  there  is  a  large  freight  depot  of  the 
Western  Railway  Company.  After  that  comes 
the  Pont  de  Bercy,  joining  the  Quai  de  la 
Bapee  on  the  right  to  the  Quai  d'Austerlitz  on 
the  left  bank.  This  bridge  was  built  in  place 
of  a  suspension  bridge  erected  during  the  First 
Empire ;  it  has  five  arches,  and  cost  $265,000. 
Still  descending  the  river,  the  next  bridge  is 
the  Pont  d'Austerlitz.  The  original  bridge  of 
this  name  was  built  in  1807,  and  it  was  one  of 
the  first  iron  bridges  ever  constructed.  It  was 
named  after  the  famous  victory  over  the  Aus- 
trians  and  Bussians,  and  when  the  Allies  re- 
stored the  Bourbons  to  the  Throne,  one  of  thef 
conditions  exacted  was  that  this  name  should 
be  changed.  It  was  accordingly  named  the 
Pont  du  Jardin  du  Boi,  but  the  people  per- 
sisted in  calling  it  by  its  original  title.  "When 
rebuilt  and  widened  in  1855  the  original  name 


118 


PARIS. 


was  restored  to  it.  It  is  entirely  of  stone,  lias 
five  arches,  is  nearly  sixty  feet  wide,  and  cost 
$280,000.  The  names  of  all  French  officers 
who  were  killed  at  the  battle  of  Austerlitz  are 
carved  on  its  stones. 

A  few  yards  below  this  bridge,  on  the  right 
bank,  opens  the  Saint  Martin  canal,  which 
soon  disappears  under  the  Place  de  la  Bastille 
and  the  Boulevard  Richard  Lenoir.  On  the 
left  bank,  a  short  distance  above  the  bridge  of 
Austerlitz,  the  little  River  Bievre  empties  its 
inky  black  waters  into  the  Seine.  The  Bievre 
is  a  rivulet  which  winds  through  the  south- 
eastern part  of  the  capital,  whose  waters  are, 
according  to  ancient  tradition,  which  is  im- 
plicitly believed  even  now,  peculiarly  adapted 
to  the  dyeing  and  tanning  trades.  It  is  from 
the  establishments  located  on  its  banks  that 
come  the  discoloration  and  foul  odour  of  its 
water ;  and  it  is  on  those  same  banks  that  the 
best  French  kip  is  manufactured. 

The  river  has  now  reached  the  He  Saint  Louis, 
and  across  the  eastern  point  of  this  island,  unit- 
ing the  Quai  Henri  IV  on  the  right  bank  to  the 
Quai  Saint  Bernard  on  the  left  bank,  is  the 
Pont  Sully,  built  in  1874.  It  has  six  arches 
and  cost  $300,000.    The  course  of  the  river 


A  VALUABLE  PUBLIC  LIBRARY.  119 


now  lies  through  the  historic  grounds  over 
which  we  have  been  wandering  since  the  begin- 
ning of  this  work.  The  lie  Saint  Louis  has 
undergone  very  few  changes  since  the  seven- 
teenth century.  It  is  still  filled  with  old  man- 
sions fronting  on  the  river  which  were  once 
inhabited  by  the  French  nobility,  but  are  now 
shelter  for  a  large  colony  of  Polish  refugees, 
and  a  few  of  the  rising  generation  of  French 
and  Belgian  litterateurs.  Among  the  historical 
houses  on  this  little  island  is  the  Hotel  Lam- 
bert, residence  in  the  seventeenth  century  of 
Lambert  de  Thorigny,  and  which  still  contains 
a  ceiling  painted  by  Lebrun,  representing  the 
marriage  of  Hercules  and  Hebe,  also  some 
mural  pictures  by  Lesueur.  On  the  right  bank, 
close  to  the  Pont  Sully,  is  the  ancient  Arsenal, 
with  its  valuable  public  library  of  two  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  volumes  and  nine  thousand 
manuscripts,  and  which  is  rich  in  documents 
relating  to  the  stage  and  the  works  of  the  early 
French  poets.  Close  at  hand,  on  the  Quai  des  Ce- 
lestins,  is  a  large  old  mansion  of  the  Renaissance 
period,  known  as  the  Hotel  La  Yalette,  from 
the  name  of  the  family  for  whom  it  was  erected, 
while  a  few  doors  farther  on  an  inscription 
records  the  fact  that  "  Rabelais  died  in  this 
house  in  the  year  1553." 


120 


PAEIS. 


Beside  the  Pont  Sully  there  are  three  bridges 
connecting  the  He  Saint  Louis  with  the  two 
banks  of  the  river,  the  Ponts  Marie  and  Louis 
Philippe  across  the  right  branch,  and  the  Pont 
de  la  Tournelle  across  the  left  branch.  The 
first  of  these  was  erected  during  the  early  part 
of  the  seventeenth  century.  In  1658  a  sud- 
den rise  of  the  river  swept  away  two  of  its 
arches,  and,  of  the  fifty  houses  that  stood  on  it 
twenty-two  were  destroyed.  This  experience 
prevented  the  rebuilding  of  the  houses  when 
the  bridge  was  repaired,  but  the  houses  which 
escaped  the  flood  were  not  pulled  down  until 
during  the  Revolution.  The  island  possesses 
still  another  bridge,  the  Pont  Saint  Louis, 
which  connects  its  western  end  with  the  He  de  la 
Cite.  This  is  a  single  arch  of  stone,  erected  at 
a  cost  of  $160,000,  and  its  eastern  end  is  close 
beside  the  Morgue,  while  in  front  of  it  rise  the 
imposing  walls,  pinnacles,  and  flying  buttresses 
of  Notre  Dame. 

We  have  now  reached  the  island  of  the  an- 
cient Cite,  the  island  of  Lutetia,  the  island  of  the 
early  Parisii,  of  the  Gauls,  of  the  Romans  and 
of  the  Francs.  All  this  has  been  told  however ; 
its  history  has  been  already  recorded;  its  an- 
cient Palace  of  the  Kings,  its  prison  of  the  Con- 


SCENE  OF  REVOLUTION*.  121 


ciergerie,  its  Temple  of  Justice,  etc.,  have  been 
fully  described  in  these  pages.  One  of  the 
bridges  of  the  Cite,  the  Pont  Notre  Dame,  is 
among  the  oldest  of  Paris,  although  it  has  been 
rebuilt  several  times,  and  perhaps  there  remains 
very  little  of  the  original  structure.  Just  above 
this  bridge  is  the  Pont  d' Arcole,  and  just  below 
it  the  Pont  au  Change.  The  old  name  of  the 
first  of  these  two,  was  Pont  de  la  Gr^ve,  the 
name  of  the  square  where  public  executions  took 
place  prior  to  the  Revolution,  and  it  faces  the 
Hotel  de  Ville.  The  most  stirring  event  that 
is  recorded  in  connection  with  the  Pont  d' Arcole 
was  the  battle  which  took  place  on  it  between 
the  people  and  the  Royal  Guards  during  the 
attack  on  the  City  Hall  in  July,  1830.  The 
leader  of  the  Revolutionist^,  a  young  man  named 
Arcole,  was  one  of  the  victims  of  that  engage- 
ment, and  it  is  in  his  honour  that  the  bridge 
bears  its  present  name.  The  Pont  au  Change 
was  built  at  a  cost  of  $260,000,  on  the  site  occu- 
pied by  the  first  bridge  ever  constructed  in 
Paris ;  it  is  so  named  because  the  bridge  that 
stood  there  in  the  twelfth  century  was  covered 
with  shops  occupied  by  money  changers.  The 
northern  end  of  that  bridge  opens  into  the 
Place  du  Chatelet,  while  at  the  Cite  end  of  it, 


122 


PARIS. 


on  the  Quai  de  1'Horloge,  a  flower  market  is 
held  on  Wednesdays  and  Saturdays. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  He  de  la  Cite,  im- 
mediately opposite  the  Pont  au  Change,  is  the 
Pont  Saint  Michel,  which,  in  the  seventeenth 
century,  was  the  Rialto  of  Paris,  its  shops  being 
nearly  all  occupied  by  jewelers  and  goldsmiths. 
In  1807,  during  an  intensely  hot  summer,  the 
branch  of  the  river  that  passes  under  this  bridge 
became  dry.  Excavations  were  made  in  the 
mud  thus  exposed  and  a  quantity  of  gold  and 
silver  dishes,  snuff  boxes,  etc.,  were  brought  to 
light,  that  were  valued  at  something  like  $250, 
000.  It  is  supposed  that  the  goldsmiths  on  the 
bridge  threw  these  articles  into  the  river  when 
surprised  by  a  sudden  visit  from  the  assayers  of 
the  mint,  preferring  .to  lose  works  which  bore 
adulteration  rather  than  to  damage  their  credit 
by  being  arrested.  The  present  Pont  Saint 
Michel  is  a  wide,  handsome  bridge  resting  on 
three  stone  arches.  It  ends  on  the  left  bank 
of  the  river,  in  the  Place  Saint  Michel,  whose 
chief  ornament  is  a  magnificent  mural  fountain 
representing  the  Archangel  vanquishing  Luci- 
fer. From  this  Place  and  bridge,  stretches 
away  the  boulevard  Saint  Michel,  on  which, 
within  sight  of  the  bridge,  are  to  be  seen  the 


MOST  FAMOUS  OF  BRIDGES.  123 


ruins  of  the  Palais  des  Thermes  of  the  Roman 
Emperors.  Further  along,  and  on  both  sides 
the  "  Boul.  Mich."  stretches  the  famous  Latin 
Quarter. 

On  the  same  side  of  the  He  de  la  Cite  are 
the  Pont  de  PArcheveche,  Pont  au  Doable,  so 
called  from  the  toll  being  a  double  farthing, 
and  the  Petit  Pont.  The  last  named  was 
already  known  as  the  "  old  little  bridge  "  as 
long  ago  as  the  thirteenth  century.  In  all, 
there  have  been  fourteen  bridges  on  this  site, 
prior  to  the  present  one,  which  is  a  single  stone 
arch  built  at  a  cost  of  $80,000. 

At  its  lower  end  the  island  of  the  Cite  forms 
a  sharp  narrow  point,  and  it  is  across  this 
that  stretches,  from  the  Quai  du  Louvre  on 
the  right  to  the  Quai  Conti  on  the  left 
bank,  the  most  famous  of  all  the  bridges  of 
Paris.  Pont  Neuf  does  not  however,  mean 
"  new  bridge,"  as  is  generally  supposed,  even 
by  many  Parisians,  and  if  it  did  it  would  be  a 
terrible  misnomer,  for  it  is  one  of  the  oldest 
structures  in  the  capital.  The  name  comes  from 
there  having  been  nine  streets  leading  directly 
to  it.  It  is  the  longest  of  all  the  bridges  of 
Paris,  the  length  being  one  thousand  and  twenty- 
five  feet  and  the  width  eighty-five.    It  rests  on 


124 


PARIS. 


twelve  arches,  and  at  each  pier  tnere  is  a  semi- 
circular bay  with  a  stone  bench.  There  is 
more  travel  across  the  Pont  Neuf  than  over  any 
other  single  bridge  in  the  capital,  and  there  is 
no  other  point  whence  so  fine  a  view  of  the  river 
and  its  shores  can  be  had. 

Standing  at  the  foot  of  the  equestrian  statue 
of  Henri  IV,  on  the  central  pier  of  the  Pont 
Neuf,  one  has  a  full  view  on  the  right  bank  of 
the  long  f agade  of  the  Louvre,  and  a  glimpse  of 
the  Church  of  Saint  Germain  de  1'  Auxerrois;  be- 
yond the  Louvre  stretch  the  Champs  iDlysees, 
and  one  sees  the  Chamber  of  Deputies,  while 
far  away  looms  up  the  Trocadero.  On  the  left 
bank  one  sees  the  Mint  and  the  Institute,  while 
close  to  the  end  of  the  bridge,  on  the  Quai  Conti, 
is  a  house  in  which  Napoleon  I  lived  when  he 
was  a  poor  lieutenant  of  Artillery.  The  statue 
of  Henri  IV,  against  which  we  are  supposed  to 
be  leaning,  was  the  first  monument  of  this  kind 
ever  erected  in  Paris,  although  this  is  not  the 
original  statue.  That  one  was  broken  down 
and  its  metal  cast  into  cannon ;  but  Louis 
XVIII  had  a  reproduction  of  the  original  made, 
and  it  was  set  up  on  the  old  pedestal.  The 
bridge  was  restored  during  the  Second  Empire 
at  a  cost  of  $350,000.    At  this  bridge  begins 


WHERE  VOLTAIRE  ONCE  LIVED.  125 


one  of  the  most  curious  industries  of  the  capi- 
tal, that  of  the  second-hand  book  dealers  who 
line  the  parapets  of  the  quays  on  the  left  bank 
with  their  wares,  all  the  way  from  the  Pont 
Neuf  to  the  Pont  Royal. 

The  first  bridge  below  the  He  de  la  Cit£  is 
at  the  Pont  des  Arts,  which,  however,  is  only 
a  foot  bridge,  connecting  the  Louvre  with  the 
Palace  of  the  Institute.  The  Pont  Carousel 
comes  next,  with  a  line  of  houses  on  the  Quai 
Voltaire  so  named  because  the  house  in  which 
Voltaire  died  stands  at  number  twenty-three, 
fronting  it.  The  next  bridge,  the  Pont  Royal, 
is  the  last  of  the  old  bridges.  After  that  we 
have  the  Pont  de  Solferino,  one  of  the  many 
bridges  built  during  the  Second  Empire  and 
which  cost  $260,000.  Near  the  northern  end 
of  this  bridge,  on  the  Quai  d'Orsay,  is  the  Palace 
of  the  Legion  d'Honneur,  which  occupies  a 
house  that  was  once  the  residence  of  Madame 
de  Stael.  On  the  right  bank  the  Pont  de  Sol- 
ferino opens  on  the  Gardens  of  the  Tuileries. 

The  next  bridge  is  the  Pont  de  la  Concorde, 
completed  in  1790  at  a  cost  of  $250,000,  and 
a  portion  of  it  was  constructed  of  stones  from 
the  old  Bastille.  It  was  originally  ornamented 
with  twelve  colossal  marble  statues,  but  as  these 


126 


PARIS. 


made  the  bridge  seem  overloaded  and  top- 
heavy,  they  were  removed  many  years  ago. 
The  immediate  neighbourhood  of  that  bridge 
is  the  finest  in  the  capital,  and  from  it  there  is 
a  superb  view,  both  up  and  down  the  river. 
It  unites  the  famous  and  beautiful  Place  de  la 
Concorde  to  the  Quai  d'Orsay,  and  to  say  Quai 
d'Orsay  in  Paris  is  like  saying  Downing  Street 
in  London,  for  both  really  mean  the  Foreign 
Office.  In  the  Quai  d'Orsay  we  find,  just  here, 
the  Palais  Bourbon  or  Chamber  of  Deputies, 
the  official  residence  of  the  speaker,  or  president 
of  that  body,  and  the  Ministere  des  Affairs 
Etrangere,  or  Foreign  Office.  The  Ministry  of 
Commerce  is  also  in  this  Quai,  a  few  yards  up 
the  river ;  the  Ministry  of  War  is  but  a  short 
distance  away,  and  we  have  only  to  cross  the 
bridge  and  pass  through  the  Place  de  la  Con- 
corde to  come  to  the  Ministry  of  Marine,  or 
Navy  Department.  Nor  is  the  Palais  de 
l'Elysee,  the  President's  official  residence  or 
the  Interior  Department  very  far  from  the 
Foreign  Office. 

The  Seine  now  passes  through  the  newest 
and  perhaps  the  handsomest  part  of  Paris, 
where  the  quays  on  both  sides  of  it  are  planted 
with  large  shade  trees,  and  are  laid  out  with 


LAFAYETTE'S  STATUE.  127 


esplanades,  parks  and  terraces.  Here  and  there 
stand  marble  statues,  and  everywhere  one  sees 
fine  houses.  The  Pont  des  Invalides  and  the 
Pont  de  l'Alma  are  both  splendid  structures, 
costing  about  $300,000  each ;  on  the  piers  of 
the  latter,  facing  up  and  down  the  stream,  are 
six  stone  figures,  several  times  larger  than  life, 
representing  the  various  branches  of  the  French 
army  in  the  Crimean  war.  At  one  end  of  this 
bridge,  on  the  right  bank  of  the  river,  in  an 
open  place,  where  the  Avenue  Marceau,  the 
Avenue  de  l'Alma  and  the  Avenue  Montagne 
come  together  stands  a  statue  of  General  de 
Lafayette,  wrhich  was  paid  for  by  the  children 
of  public  schools  in  the  United  States.  The 
Pont  des  Invalides  was  destroyed  by  an  ice 
gorge  which  formed  in  the  river  during  the 
winter  of  1879-80 — we  drove  horses  attached  to 
sleighs  on  the  Seine  that  winter,  and  it  was  the 
coldest  weather  I  ever  experienced — but  the 
bridge  was  soon  rebuilt  at  a  cost  of  $250,000, 
precisely  as  it  was  before. 

On  the  left  bank,  but  not  immediately  facing 
the  bridge,  are  the  large  open  grounds,  sur- 
rounded by  fine  old  trees,  which  front  the 
Hotel  des  Invalides,  with  its  gilded  dome,  and 
the  Tomb  of  Napoleon.    On  the  right  bank  of 


128 


PARIS, 


the  river,  running  from  the  Place  de  la  Con- 
corde to  this  bridge,  lies  the  Cours  la  Heine, 
and  at  the  corner  of  that  beautiful  avenue,  and 
a  street  which  faces  the  bridge,  is  a  mansion 
covered  all  over  with  rich  sculptures.  This  is 
known  as  the  Maison  Francois  I.  It  originally 
stood  at  Moret,  where  it  was  erected  in  1523 
as  a  country  house  for  Diane  de  Poitiers.  In 
1826  the  house  was  carefully  taken  down, 
brought  safely  to  Paris,  and  re-erected  on  this 
spot. 

At  the  Pont  de  PAlma  the  river  bends 
away  to  the  southwest  and  about  one  thousand 
yards  below  that  bridge  the  stream  is  crossed 
by  the  Pont  d'lena,  architecturally  speaking 
the  handsomest  of  all  the  bridges  of  Paris.  It 
was  erected  between  1809  and  1813,  and  it 
cost  $1,250,000.  Napoleon  I  gave  it  its  pres- 
ent name  in  commemoration  of  his  victory  of 
the  fourteenth  of  October,  1806,  over  the  Prus- 
sians, and  when  the  Allies  came  into  the  capital, 
after  Waterloo,  it  was  with  great  difficulty  that 
Blucher  was  persuaded  from  destroying  it. 
To  satisfy  that  general,  Louis  XVIII  took 
away  its  name  and  gave  it  another,  but  the 
public  refused  to  adopt  the  change,  and  Pont 
d'lena  it  was  then,  as  it  is  to-day.    It  forms 


VIADUCT  OF  AUTEUIL. 


129 


the  communication  between  the  Palais  de  Troc- 
adero  and  the  Champ  de  Mars. 

The  next  two  bridges,  the  first  of  which 
is  a  foot  bridge,  are  the  Pont  de  Passy  and  the 
Pont  de  Grenelle,  both  resting  on  a  long  nar- 
row island  known  as  the  He  des  Cygnes, 
whereon  stands  another  statue  of  General  de 
Lafayette  which  was  paid  for  and  erected  by 
Americans.  Then  comes  the  Pont  Mirabeau, 
and  finally  we  have  the  magnificent  viaduct  of 
Auteuil,  consisting  of  two  bridges,  one  above 
the  other,  and  which  was  completed  at  a  cost 
of  nearly  $2,000,000.  The  lower  bridge  is  for 
vehicles  and  foot  people ;  the  upper  one  is  re- 
served for  the  railway  that  makes  the  ciicuit  of 
Paris,  locally  called  the  Chemin  de  Fer  de  Cein- 
ture.  This  railway  and  vehicle  bridge  marks  the 
limits  of  Southwestern  Paris.  There  run  the 
fortifications,  and  beyond  them  is  the  country, 
and  the  suburban  villages  of  Bas  Meudon  and 
of  Billancour. 

The  bridges  cross  the  river,  the  quays  stretch 
along  that  stream.  On  both  its  shores  are  para- 
peted walls  running  for  a  distance  of  nearly 
nine  miles,  and  these  quays  are  solid  stone 
structures.  They  change  their  names  more 
than  sixty  times  between  the  National  bridge 


130 


PAEIS. 


and  the  Pont  du  Jour,  or  railway  viaduct 
bridge,  mentioned  but  now.  Going  up  stream, 
from  this  Southwestern  corner  of  the  capital, 
we  shall  not  find  much  that  is  historical  before 
we  reach  the  Place  de  la  Concorde.  The  Route 
de  Versailles  and  the  Quai  de  Passy  have  re- 
tained no  footprints  of  that  mob  of  women  who, 
in  1789,  went  to  Versailles,  and  the  next  day 
returned  to  mingle  with  the  Paris  National 
Guards,  bringing  back  those  whom  they  called, 
in  slang  language  of  their  own,  "la  Boulan- 
gere"  and  "le  Petit  Mitron." 

On  the  other  side  of  the  Seine  is  the  Quai 
Javal,  and  then  comes  that  of  Grenelle,  which 
ends  at  the  Champs  de  Mars,  of  Exposition 
memory.  Then  comes  the  Quai  d'Orsay  on 
the  left  bank,  and  on  the  right  the  Quai  de 
Billy,  and  between  them  the  river  flows  past 
superb  structures  which  are  proud  looking,  but 
mostly  new,  and  recall  few  souvenirs  of  past 
years.  There  is  an  immense  depot  for  army 
stores  standing  on  the  Quai  de  Billy.  The 
Quai  d'Orsay  was  long  a  marsh  in  which  frogs 
croaked  out  the  onomatopoetic  words  of  Aris- 
tophanes, but,  at  the  beginning  of  the  eight- 
eenth century,  the  swamp  was  filled  in  by 
Bouchon  d'Orsay,  the  prevost  of  Paris  mer- 


QUAYS  ALONG  THE  SEINE.  131 


chants.  Now  it  is  a  quay  of  solemn  aspect,  on 
which  stand  military  barracks,  a  government  to- 
bacco manufactory,  private  mansions,  the  Palace 
of  the  Legion  of  Honour,  the  Chamber  of  Depu- 
ties, and  the  Ministry  of  Foreign  Affairs.  This  is 
why,  when  referring  to  the  French  Foreign 
Office,  one  says  the  Quai  d'Orsay.  On  the  north 
side  of  the  river  the  Quai  de  la  Conference,  suc- 
ceeding to  the  Quay  de  Billy,  runs  into  the  Corn's 
la  Heine,  and  at  the  Place  de  la  Concorde 
changes  its  name  to  the  Quai  des  Tuileries.  It 
was  by  a  new  gate  which  was  once  at  the  end 
of  this  quay  that  the  regiments  of  Henri  IV 
entered  Paris  in  1594;  three  hundred  years 
later,  on  this  same  quay,  the  regicide  Meunier 
fired  a  pistol  ball  at  Louis  Philippe.  To  the 
Quai  des  Tuileries  succeeds  that  of  the  Louvre, 
and  it  borders  the  famous  buildings  of  that 
name.  From  the  hither  side  of  the  Seine  we 
cross  the  river  by  the  Pont  Royal  to  the  Quai 
Voltaire. 

"If  there  were  no  Quai  Voltaire,"  said  a 
traveller,  once  upon  a  time,  "all  cities,  without 
exception,  would  please  me  as  much  as  Paris." 
Others  prefer  the  city  to  any  other  although  not 
for  the  same  single  reason,  but  the  Quai  Vol- 
taire is,  in  its  way,  a  paradise.    Walking  along 


132 


PARIS. 


it,  one  has  the  most  beautiful  view  in  the 
world — the  Seine  flowing  at  one's  feet,  the  trees 
of  the  Tuileries  Garden  hard  by,  the  Louvre 
building  not  far  distant,  and  a  little  further  up 
stream,  the  old  Cite  with  its  islands — cradle  of 
immortal  Paris. 

On  the  Quai  Yoltaire  there  are  no  shops  de- 
voted to  common  trade  ;  the  things  sold  relate 
to  everything,  and  form  a  brilliant  resume  of 
universal  history.  There  are  precious  old  bits 
of  furniture,  firearms,  swords,  ancient  jewelry, 
refined  and  elegant  prints,  books  and  engrav- 
ings. Above  the  stores  are  large  apartments 
which  reach  to  an  unusual  height,  and  with 
broad  windows,  bearing  witness  to  the  princely 
luxury  that  once  reigned  therein.  On  all  the 
quays  there  is  sufficient  to  look  at  and  to  study 
to  take  up  a  man's  lifetime,  but  the  attraction, 
the  invincible  charm  of  them  all,  is  the  Quai 
Voltaire,  where  there  are  rare  books,  or,  to 
speak  more  correctly,  the  "bouquin."  There 
are  several  shops  where  bibliophilists  offer  to 
purchasers  fine  old  tomes  at  fairly  reasonable 
prices,  and  to  these  stores  the  amateur,  the 
searcher,  the  discoverer  of  unknown  treasures 
is  constantly  going  in  search  of  prizes ;  hoping 
to  find,  for  a  mere  nothing,  in  boxes  placed  along 


THE  OLD  BOOK  SHOPS. 


133 


the  stone  parapet,  some  old  volume  which  had, 
or  will  have,  great  value  attached  to  it  and  of 
which  the  dealer  is  in  total  ignorance.  There 
is  always  a  struggle  going  on  between  the  book- 
sellers and  the  book  buyers,  the  one  wishing  to 
sell  his  goods  at  a  fair  price,  the  other  to  secure 
it  for  a  few  sous  only,  anxiously  raking  the  boxes 
over  for  a  book  that  may  have  value  attached  to 
it.  It  is  a  strange  and  instructive  business,  that 
of  selling  books  from  boxes  spread  along  the 
parapets  on  the  Quai  Voltaire. 

When  tired  of  looking  at  books  on  the  river- 
side we  may  pass  across  the  road  to  contem- 
plate old  furniture,  with  incrustations  of  tin 
and  ivory,  big  chests  of  drawers  with  bronzes 
boldly  and  delicately  chiselled,  beautiful  clocks 
standing  on  bracket  pedestals,  and  golden 
candlesticks  with  immense  branches.  Another 
great  pleasure  thereabouts  consists  in  looking 
at  the  old  portraits.  One  has  but  to  open  his 
eyes  to  rejoice,  for  here  are  to  be  found  master- 
pieces of  engravings  on  copper ;  portraits  of 
kings  of  natural  size,  pictures  of  receptions, 
fetes,  galas,  and  coronation  balls,  with  all  sorts 
of  flourishing  adornments  and  the  ravishing  set- 
up of.  flags  and  illuminations.  But  books  are 
the  chief  works  which  are  to  be  found  every- 


134 


PAKIS. 


where  along  the  banks  of  the  river.  They  are 
in  the  open  air,  they  reign  supreme,  they  are 
the  ornament  and  life  of  silent  places.  Take 
away  the  old  prints,  the  old  engravings,  the  old 
books,  the  old  portraits,  and  that  corner  of 
Paris  would  become  mournful.  Poplars  lift 
their  tops  above  the  stone  parapets.  In  Spring 
they  bud,  in  Summer  furnish  shade,  and  when 
Autumn  comes  they  let  fall  their  dying  foliage 
on  old  books.  It  is  the  land  which  was  once 
known  as  the  Pre  aux  Clercs,  but  in  those  other 
days  row  boats  were  moored  to  the  river's  bank, 
stage  coaches  ran  along  the  quay,  and  promen- 
aders  met  to  gossip  under  the  poplars.  Among 
the  many  small  industries  of  the  capital  that  of 
the  second-hand  bookseller  appears  the  most 
tenacious.  The  cobbler's  stall,  the  knife 
grinder's  wheel,  the  stand  of  the  scrivener,  the 
herds  of  goats  and  of  asses,  have  vanished,  or  are 
vanishing,  but  thebouquiniste's  display  remains 
the  same  as  always.  There  are  something  like 
a  hundred  of  these  bouquinistes  established 
along  the  quays.  Each  dealer  has  from  twelve 
to  fifteen  boxes  and,  if  extended  along  in  a 
single  row,  these  boxes  would  reach  a  distance 
of  at  least  a  mile,  while  the  volumes  which  they 
hold  amount  to  close  upon  eighty  thousand. 


CURIOUS  OLD  STORES.  135 


Next,  on  the  south  side  of  the  river,  comes 
the  Quai  Malaquais,  with  its  numerous  shops 
of  bric-a-brac,  while  on  the  Quai  Conti,  which 
follows,  is  the  Hotel  des  Monnaies,  or  Paris 
Mint,  its  cold  majestic  front  occupying  almost 
the  whole  of  the  quay.  Near  there  once  stood 
the  Tour  de  Nesle,  of  terrible  memory  and 
much  romance,  while  in  front,  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  river,  looms  up  the  Louvre.  The 
quays  become  multiplied  in  number  as  we 
ascend  the  river.  On  the  right  shore  is  the 
Quai  des  Augustins,  with  houses  that  have 
historical  balconies  and  where  the  narrow, 
dimly  lit,  melancholy  shops  retain  the  aspect 
of  former  days.  There  are  curious  old  stores 
overflowing  with  prints,  engravings,  manu- 
scripts, and  rare  volumes.  In  that  neighbour- 
hood knowledge  crouches  at  the  doors  as 
though  lying  in  wait  for  men  ;  and  when  its 
prey  passes  by  it  flies  out  and  clings  to  them. 
Whoever  opens  an  old  volume,  or  gives  a  glance 
at  old  pictures  or  engravings,  finds  a  new  idea 
entering  into  his  mind;  for  while  the  boule- 
vards are  the  modern  life  of  Paris,  the  quays 
are  its  past,  its  historical  library. 

The  poultry  market  is  built  on  the  site  of 
the  old  Convent  of  the  Augustins  which  gives 


136 


PARIS. 


name  to  the  quay  last  mentioned.  After  it  we 
have  the  Quai  de  l'Horloge,  one  of  the  oldest  in 
the  capital,  one  that  is  heavily  laden  with  sou- 
venirs. The  first  clock  ever  seen  in  France 
was  constructed  there,  and  opticians,  spectacle 
makers  and  fabricants  of  photographic  mater- 
ial fill  the  quay  with  their  little  shops.  The 
Quai  de  la  Megisserie,  the  Quai  de  Graves,  and 
the  Quai  Pellttier,  which  face  that  of  the  Hor- 
loge,  are  all  of  modern  date.  The  Quai  aux 
Fleurs  succeeds  that  of  the  Horloge ;  it  is  laden 
with  roses  and  other  flowers,  it  is  the  garden 
bed  of  Paris.  Soon  we  are  in  the  Quai  Mon- 
tebello,  and  then  out  of  that  into  the  Quai  de 
la  Tournelle,  among  wine  shops  and  bakeries. 

Behind  old  houses  with  slate  roofs,  which 
once  were  lordly  mansions,  the  populous  quar- 
ter of  the  capital  now  ferments.  The  Quai 
d'Orleans  was  called  Quai  de  1'lCgalite,  during 
the  Revolution,  while  the  Quai  des  Bethunes, 
or  des  Balcons,  which  continues  and  completes 
it,  became,  in  1792,  the  Quai  de  la  Liberte. 
Now  we  are  on  the  Quai  Saint  Bernard,  and 
are  in  the  land  of  wholesale  wine  merchants. 
To  it  Burgundy  and  the  Medoc  send  their  best 
productions.  Its  yards,  shaded  by  acacias,  are 
full  of   vats   and  barrels.     Hereabouts  the 


QUAI  DE  AUSTEKLITZ.  137 


Seine  becomes  wide,  the  landscape  is  country- 
like, the  perspective  is  extended.  The  river- 
side is  almost  deserted  and  we  see  very  few  ? 
houses.  The  quay  runs  along  by  the  Jardin 
des  Plantes,  and  there  are  no  embankment 
walls. 

Finally  the  quays  of  Paris  finish  with  that 
of  Austerlitz.  In  1814,  thousands  of  Parisians 
flocked  to  this  strand,  bringing  lint,  bandages 
and  provisions.  Large  boats  drawn  by  dray- 
horses  brought  wounded  soldiers  to  the  spot. 
Cries  were  heard  of  dying  men,  and  when  the 
boats  stopped,  the  crowd  carried  these  men  to 
the  quay  and  laid  them  on  mattresses.  This 
was  Napoleon's  army  back  from  Russia.  'One 
night  during  that  same  year  of  1814  a  cab 
passed  over  the  uncultivated  land  of  the 
Bievre,  not  far  away ;  two  fellows  alighted 
from  it,  pulled  a  sack  from  the  vehicle,  opened 
it  and  threw  into  a  hole  some  bones.  Then 
they  filled  up  the  hole,  arranged  the  earth  so  as 
not  to  leave  any  traces,  and  went  their  way ; 
and  the  bones  were  those  of  Voltaire  and  of 
Jean  Jacques  Rousseau,  nocturnally  stolen 
from  the  tombs  of  the  Pantheon. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


Keligious  edifices  in  the  Capital — Abbeys  and  churches 
built  by  the  clergy  in  early  times — The  first  cathe- 
dral— Sketch  of  Notre  Dame — A  Temple  of  Season 
during  the  Eevolution — The  wonderful  things 
which  the  place  has  witnessed — Coronation  of  Na- 
poleon and  his  Empress — A  church  without  towers 
and  without  bells — Beautiful  Sainte  Chapelle — 
Sainte  Eustache,  near  the  public  markets — The 
ancient  cloister  of  Saint  Severin — Splendid  ex- 
ample of  sixteenth  century  architecture — A  master- 
piece of  wood  carving — The  Church  of  Saint  Sul- 
pice — Saint  Germain  des  Pres — Why  the  Church 
of  Saint  Germain  PAuxerrois  was  pillaged — The 
edifice  upon  Montmartre — One  hundred  and  forty- 
two  churches  but  no  churchyards — The  different 
cemeteries  and  their  famous  occupants. 

Among  the  monumental  buildings  of  the 
capital  of  France,  celebrated  for  their  beauty, 
grandeur  and  old  age,  its  cathedral  and  some  of 
its  churches  hold  proud  positions.  It  is  certain 
that  Christianity  was  early  established  at  Paris, 
and  that  numerous  religious  houses  were  built 
during  the  era  when  Letters  and  the  Arts  prob- 
ably flourished  to  a  degree  which  they  scarcely 


RUINS  OF  ABBEYS  AND  CHURCHES.  139 


attained  again  in  the  course  of  the  next  one 
thousand  years.  It  is  said  that  when  Julian 
the  Apostate  was  at  Lutitia,  as  representative 
of  the  Caesars,  he  used  to  go  of  a  night  to  the 
top  of  his  palace  and  look  at  the  stars,  where 
he  was  wont  to  prophesy  the  last  days  of 
Christianity ;  if  so  he  little  suspected  that  the 
hills  and  plains  on  which  he  gazed  would  some 
day  be  covered  with  religious  edifices.  The 
Romans  were  succeeded  by  the  Gauls,  one  of 
whom,  a  great  chief  named  Clovis,  claimed  Paris 
as  his  share  of  booty,  and  he  was  baptised  a 
Christian.  His  dynasty  liked  the  woods  and 
fields  better  than  they  did  the  walls  of  towns, 
however,  so  it  was  permitted  to  the  clergy  to 
build  abbeys  and  churches.  None  of  these 
edifices  are  standing  now,  but  at  a  few  spots  we 
find  their  ruins,  and,  indeed,  on  some  of  the  very 
places  where  those  original  houses  to  God  were 
erected  now  stand  splendid  structures  dedicated 
to  public  worship. 

Several  historians  have  thought  that  Saint 
Denis  du  Pas, 1  was  the  first  church  in  Paris, 
and  they  have  pretended  that  it  was  founded 

1  This  little  church  was  situated  behind  the  Cathedral 
of  Notre  Dame  ;  it  was  demolished  in  1813  so  that  the 
Archbishop's  garden  might  be  enlarged. 


140 


PARIS, 


by  Saint  Denis  himself  about  the  year  A.  D. 
257.  No  document  has  ever  been  found  to 
sustain  this  claim,  however,  and  most  likely 
that  little  church,  undoubtedly  of  great  antiq- 
uity, was  built  by  the  faithful  sometime  after 
the  Saint's  death,  to  honour  his  memory. 
Christianity  did  not  begin  to  find  peace  until 
the  reign  of  Constantine ;  that  was  in  the  fifth 
century,  and  it  was  the  year  375  that  dates, 
according  to  some  historians,  the  building  of 
the  first  cathedral  of  the  Parisian  city.  Placed 
under  the  invocation  of  Saint  Etienne,  first 
martyr  and  patron  of  Saint  Denis,  it  was 
situate  at  the  southern  side  of  the  massive 
church  of  the  same  name  that  is  now  standing. 
Saint  Germain,  having  been  raised  to  the 
Bishopric  of  Paris,  obtained  from  King  Childe- 
bert  permission  to  restore  the  already  old  cathe- 
dral. That  was  in  555,  when  the  edifice  was  no 
longer  able  to  hold  the  clergy  and  faithful  of  the 
city.  A  new  basilica,  dedicated  to  Sainte  Marie, 
Mother  of  Jesus,  was  thereupon  built  near  the 
eastern  point  of  the  He  de  la  Cite,  and  on  the 
antique  ruins  of  a  temple  or  altar  dedicated  to 
Jupiter,  to  Esus  and  to  Vulcan.  It  appears 
from  what  Fortunat,  a  contemporary  of  that 
period,  writes,  that  the  new  church  was  grandly 


NOTRE  DAME  DE  PARIS.  141 


magnificent,  and  embellished  with  thirty  marble 
columns,  the  windows  being  especially  rich  in 
colour  and  design. 

The  two  earliest  Crusades  having  terminated 
after  torrents  of  blood  had  been  spilled,,  and  the 
exaltation  of  which  had  precipitated  almost  the 
whole  of  Europe  on  Asian  soil,  all  of  Christi- 
anity seemed  inflamed  by  the  same  ardour.  No 
work  was  too  great,  no  effort  or  devotion  too 
hard,  to  assure  the  triumph  of  the  true  faith  or 
to  honour  God.  This  powerful  paroxysm  of 
human  imaginations  throughout  Europe  marked 
its  passage  by  the  creation  of  bold  monuments 
during  the  eleventh,  twelfth,  thirteenth,  and 
fourteenth  centuries,  the  grandeur,  elegance 
and  likeness  of  which  displayed  an  architecture 
until  then  quite  unknown.  About  the  year 
1160,  Maurice  de  Sully,  seventy-second  Bishop 
of  Paris,  conceived  the  idea  of  rebuilding  the 
basilica  of  Sainte  Marie  on  a  new  plan,  and  in 
proportions  approximate  to  the  needs  and  reli- 
gious sentiments  of  the  period. 

The  great  monument  of  that  period  is  there- 
fore the  Cathedral  of  Notre  Dame  de  Paris. 
Many  errors  have  been  written  about  Notre 
Dame,  and  it  is  possible  that  some  may  be  re- 
peated here.      One  of   these  was  that  that 


142 


PARIS. 


church  was  built  on  piling ;  but  it  has  been 
proven  that  the  foundations  are  enormous 
dressed-stones,  placed  on  sand.  It  is  true, 
however,  that  the  old  cathedral  stands  directly 
on  the  site  of  two  ancient  churches,  which, 
according  to  tradition,  themselves  succeeded  to 
a  pagan  temple.  Notre  Dame  is  not  only  a 
Gothic  cathedral,  it  is  also  one  of  the  largest, 
finest,  and  oldest  ever  erected.  Begun  in  1160, 
the  choir  was  finished  in  1195.  The  nave  was 
built  about  1200,  the  facade  in  1218,  the  towers 
in  1225,  and  now  the  cathedral  was  ready  for 
occupancy.  About  1240  fire  damaged  a  large 
part  of  it,  and  advantage  was  taken  of  this 
accident  to  change  the  windows.  In  1245  the 
chapels  along  each  side  of  the  nave  were  added. 
Twelve  years  later  the  two  magnificent  rose 
windows  were  constructed.  Chapels  were 
built  around  the  choir  in  1296,  and  the  work 
was  about  finished  in  1310.  But  a  large  part  of 
the  arcs-boutants,  those  splendid  arches  now  so 
much  admired,  were  re-arranged  in  1330  and 
thus  the  work  was  ended. 

Placed  in  the  very  heart  of  the  old  soil  of  the 
ancient  city,  the  Cathedral  of  Notre  Dame  has 
experienced  blows  from  all  the  excitements 
which  Paris  has  ever  known.    It  was  pillaged 


A  TEMPLE  OF  REASON. 


143 


in  1793,  at  the  worst  moment  of  the  Revolu- 
tion. There  were  twenty-eight  statues  of  kings 
and  holy  men  in  the  old  cathedral ;  all  of  these 
were  broken,  and  the  altars  were  upset.  It 
was  decided  by  the  Commune  that  Notre  Dame 
should  be  turned  into  a  Temple  of  Reason, 
and  a  festival  was  instituted  for  every  day. 
But  the  madmen  of  the  Revolution  soon  grew 
tired  of  their  fites  a  la  Raison,  and  the  relig- 
ion of  Reason  was  abolished,  to  be  replaced  by 
that  of  the  Supreme  Being.  The  Cathedral 
of  Our  Lady  was  restored  to  the  Catholics  in 
1795,  since  when,  and  despite  Revolutions  and 
Communes,  the  church  has  not  been  troubled 
much.  Indeed,  in  July,  1830,  when  Notre 
Dame  became  a  sort  of  fortress  or  barricade 
against  the  Insurrection,  when  the  tri-coloured 
flag  floated  from  both  its  towers,  and  the  Arch- 
bishop's palace  was  sacked,  the  cathedral  itself 
was  not  harmed.  A  year  or  so  later  the 
Church  of  Saint  Germain  l'Auxerrois,  thanks 
to  an  impudent  provocation  of  which  it  was 
the  scene,  was  invaded  and  almost  ruined.  The 
mob  then  marched  on  the  Archbishop's  palace 
and  effaced  it  from  the  earth  ;  but  Notre  Dame 
was  again  respected.  The  anger  of  the  people 
was  turned  into  respect  at  its  grand  f  a£ade. 


144 


PARIS. 


This  Cathedral  of  Paris  has  been  associated 
with  nearly  every  important  act  during  the 
reigns  of  all  the  kings,  as  well  as  with  innu- 
merable other  capital  events  in  the  history  of 
France,  which  have  happened  since  its  first  erec- 
tion. It  would  be  almost  like  writing  the 
history  of  Paris  over  again  to  merely  relate  what 
Notre  Dame  has  witnessed.  How  many  the 
kings,  the  queens,  the  celebrated  personages  who 
have  come  to  worship  or  to  pray  in  that  sanc- 
tuary !  How  many  the  political  or  religious  fes- 
tivals, of  joys  or  sorrows,  of  dynastic  changes  and 
of  revolutions,  which  have  been  brought  on,  so  to 
speak,  within  its  naves  during  these  nearly 
nine  hundred  years !  Births  and  marriages, 
the  deaths  of  sovereigns,  the  coronations  of 
kings  and  emperors,  the  blessing  of  flags, 
prayers  for  battles  gained  and  for  peaces  pro- 
claimed— these  are  a  few  of  the  many  things 
witnessed  at  Notre  Dame.  How  many  the 
times  that  the  Te  Deum  has  sounded  under  its 
splendid  vaults,  and  how  many  the  times,  also, 
that  the  contrary  passions  of  monarchs  and 
other  men,  have  come  to  this  House  of  God 
for  arbitration!  Notre  Dame  gave  benedic- 
tion to  Christian  heroes,  and  St.  Louis  departed 
for   Jerusalem.     A   few  centuries   later  its 


ITS  HISTORICAL  HAPPENINGS.  145 


naves  were  shamed  when  Charles  IX  cele- 
brated there  the  glory  of  Saint  Bartholemew. 
Louis  XIV  decorated  Notre  Dame  with  his 
pretentious  magnificence,  and  he  tapestried  it 
inside  and  out  with  standards  taken  from  the 
enemy  in  almost  every  land ;  but  in  it  was 
also  feted  his  sad  treaty  of  Rastadt.  The 
Revolution  broke  down  its  altars,  and  harlotry 
scrambled  in  the  ancient  sanctuary ;  but  pious 
hands  soon  repaired  its  ruins,  and  Napoleon  I 
spread  his  imperial  mantle  over  the  wounds  of 
the  Holy  House. 

Notre  Dame  witnessed  the  coronation  of  a 
Bonaparte  and  his  Empress,  but  soon  after  that 
Notre  Dame,  and  Paris  also,  were  rid  forever  of 
his  living  presence.  The  Restoration  brought 
scars  to  Notre  Dame,  by  scratching  ofF  all  signs 
of  Napoleon's  star  to  replace  them  with  its 
fleurs  de  lys.  Perhaps  the  cathedral  bore  the 
Bourbons  no  good  will  for  this,  for  in  1830  its 
tower  first  upheld  the  victorious  flag  of  liberty. 

The  u  legitimacy,"  that  is  to  say,  the  "  Aris- 
tos "  of  the  Faubourg  Saint  Germain,  chose 
Saint  Germain  TAuxerrois,  old,  decrepid,  and 
used  up,  for  their  parish  church.  Saint  Roch, 
a  building  of  the  eighteenth  century,  and 
sparkling  with  theatrical  decorations,  a  church 


146 


PARIS. 


without  towers  and  without  bells,  was  made  a 
house  of  prayer  by  day,  where  fashionable  peo- 
ple could  drop  in  and  breathe  a  prayer,  or  burn 
a  candle  before  going  to  drink  a  cup  of  tea. 
Saint  Augustins  was  anointed  by  politicians 
as  the  rendezvous  of  those  who  still  worshipped 
at  the  feet  of  Bonaparte ;  but,  meanwhile,  Notre 
Dame  remained,  as  it  still  remains,  the  great  re- 
ligious temple  of  the  Parisian  world. 

Close  by  the  Palais  des  Justice  stands  that 
marvel  of  architecture,  beautiful  Sainte  Cha- 
pelle,  originally  erected  as  place  of  deposit  for 
a  piece  of  the  true  Cross,  also  for  the  Crown  of 
Thorns  which  St.  Louis  had  obtained  from  the 
Emperor  of  Constantinople.  Sainte  Chapelle 
is  divided  into  two  stories,  a  lower  and  an  up- 
per chapel,  the  former  being  placed  under  the 
vocable  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  the  latter  under 
that  of  the  Holy  Cross  and  Crown.  The  en- 
tire building  is  of  stone  of  a  very  fine  grain, 
and  it  presents  the  most  complete  and  purest 
specimen  of  ecclesiastical  architecture  of  the 
middle  of  the  thirteenth  century.  The  two 
stories  are  vaulted  in  ogive  arches ;  the  vaulted 
ceiling  of  the  lower  chapel  rests  on  isolated 
columns,  and  the  place  is  lit  up  by  rose  win- 
dows which  take  up  all  the  space  left  under 


A  MARVEL  OF  ARCHITECTURE.  147 


formerets.  The  walls  of  the  upper  chapel,  the 
floor  of  which  was  on  a  level  with  that  of  the 
royal  apartments,  present  the  appearance  of  a 
group  of  small  columns,  between  which  are 
seen  brilliant  glass  windows  of  most  harmoni- 
ous colouring.  A  rich  curve  embellishes  the 
window  supports,  while  behind  the  only  altar 
rises  a  pierced  enclosure  with  a  platform,  on 
which  were  placed  the  holy  relics,  protected  by 
a  wooden  edicule.  In  two  retreats,  situated 
between  counterforts,  to  the  right  and  to  the 
left,  seats  were  placed  for  the  King  and  Queen, 
all  the  upper  chapel  being  reserved  for  the 
Sovereign  and  his  Court,  while  the  lower  one 
was  for  the  palace  household.  Statues  of  the 
Twelve  Apostles  stand  against  the  pillars  of 
the  upper  chapel,  on  a  level  with  the  window 
supports.  Sustained  by  brackets,  and  sur- 
mounted by  a  dais  richly  gilded,  and  of  varie- 
gated colours,  they  stand  out  boldly  from  the 
luminous  mosaics  of  the  stained-glass  windows, 
their  gold  and  enamel  tones  presenting  an  ani- 
mated zone  to  the  interior. 

Stained-glass  windows  are  not  the  only 
coloured  decorations  of  Sainte  Chapelle,  how- 
ever, for  the  pillars,  roof  and  vaults  are  cov- 
ered with  paintings  and  gildings,  while  em- 


148 


PARIS. 


bossings  on  glass  ground-work,  latticed  with 
gilded  adornments,  add  to  the  preciousness  of 
the  marvellous  interior.  It  is  a  warm  harmony 
of  transparent  and  subtle  tones,  of  brilliant 
touches  and  golden  reflections.  There  is  such 
a  delicacy  in  the  coloration  of  pillars  and 
vaulted  ceilings,  blending  so  harmoniously  with 
the  translucent  brilliancy  of  stained  windows, 
that  the  ensemble  seems  to  be  outside  terrestrial 
conditions  of  stability. 

The  Church  of  Sainte  Eustache  is  located 
opposite  the  Halles  Centrales,  or  public  mar- 
kets. The  first  stone  of  the  present  church  was 
laid  in  1532,  but  the  choir  was  not  finished 
until  nearly  one  hundred  years  afterward.  The 
plan  is  that  of  a  Gothic  church,  the  method  of 
structure  being  the  kind  in  vogue  in  France 
during  the  Middle  Ages;  vaults  propped  up 
by  arch-buttresses,  side  naves,  with  triforium 
above,  lateral  and  absidial  chapels,  steeple  of 
wood  and  lead  in  the  centre  of  the  transept, 
counterforts  with  pinnacles  to  ensure  stability, 
and  gutter-eaves  with  projecting  waterspouts, 
called  gargouilles.  The  high  windows  have  an 
elliptical  shape  which  does  not  give  an  over- 
agreeable  effect,  while  inside  the  pillars  repre- 
sent the  strangest  superfetation  of  pilasters  and 


SAINT  JULIEN  LE  PAUVRE. 


149 


columns  that  could  possibly  be  imagined. 
Still  the  whole  effect  of  the  interior  produces 
the  impression  of  elegant  grandeur.  The  col- 
lateral windows  diffuse  a  beautiful  light,  which 
is  well  distributed,  but  there  is  affectation  in  it 
all,  an  evident  desire  to  surprise.  If  the 
structure  were  entirely  covered  with  paint- 
ings, and  the  windows  were  embellished  only 
with  lightly  coloured  stained  glass,  the  interior 
of  Sainte  Eustache  would  appear  almost  like 
a  fairy  palace. 

Ancient,  and  remarkable,  because  of  its  style 
of  architecture,  is  a  little  church  which  is  a 
dependency  of  the  hospital  known  as  the  Hotel 
Dieu,  which  is  called  Saint  Julien  le  Pauvre. 
This  edifice,  the  foundations  of  which  go  back 
as  far  as  the  first  centuries  of  Christianity  in 
Paris,  has  been  reconstructed  several  times. 
The  present  church  dates  from  the  end  of  the 
twelfth  century,  say  about  1170,  and  the  details 
of  its  architecture  have  analogy  with  those  of 
the  oldest  part  of  the  Cathedral  of  Notre  Dame. 
It  comprises  a  central  nave  supported  by  flowered 
pillars,  with  two  collateral  naves  to  which 
ogival  arches  give  being.  These  naves  are  ter- 
minated by  apses  of  a  round  form,  the  concep- 
tion of   which   was   due  to  a  very  skilful 


150 


PARIS. 


architect.  Nothing  could  be  more  graceful 
than  this  assembly  of  pillars  and  columns, 
cleverly  disposed  without  confusion,  and  the 
strength  and  lightness  of  which  are  admired  by 
everyone.  The  building,  although  disfigured 
by  modern  loppings  off,  has  preserved  its  primi- 
tive character  on  the  side  of  the  apsis,  where  a 
series  of  counterforts  are  found  that  serve  as 
supporting  points  to  vaults  which  are  lit  up  by 
windows  surmounted  by  ogives  in  a  severe 
style. 

The  Church  of  St.  Severin,  in  the  Rue  St. 
Severin,  dates  from  the  thirteenth  century, 
although  it  was  not  completely  finished  until 
the  end  of  the  fifteenth  century.  It  has  the 
form  of  a  Greek  cross,  and  one  of  its  fagades  is 
intermingled  with  the  dependencies  of  an 
ancient  charnel  house.  On  the  inside  of  the 
nave  are  some  remarkably  fine  old  windows. 
There  is  a  cloister  on  the  southern  side  which 
dates  from  the  fifteenth  century,  and,  with  that 
of  Billettes,  is  the  only  one  left  standing  in 
Paris. 

Leaving  the  Cite,  and  going  up  the  hill  of 
Sainte  Genevieve,  we  find,  near  the  Pantheon, 
a  church  called  Saint  Etienne  du  Mont,  which  is 
a  splendid  example  of  sixteenth  century  archi- 


SAINT  ETIENNE  DU  MONT.  151 


tecture.  It  is  a  mixture  of  Gothic  and  Renais- 
sance, and  has  a  curious  front,  with  a  square 
tower  which  supports  a  large  clock.  This 
church  has  preserved  its  original  jube,  or  rood 
loft,  situated  in  front  of  the  choir.  It  was 
originally  used  as  a  chapel  by  the  laical  popu- 
lation in  the  environs  of  the  Mont  Sainte  Gene- 
vieve, and  its  construction,  commenced  during 
the  reign  of  Francois  I,  thanks  to  that  habitual 
dilatoriness  so  characteristic  of  the  period,  lasted 
for  an  entire  century.  The  nave  alone  was 
finished  when  Marguerite  of  Valois  laid  the 
first  stone  of  the  facade,  and  the  lateral  chapel 
was  only  erected  in  1660. 

There  is  no  other  church  in  Paris  that  pre- 
sents such  interior  arrangements  as  those  of 
Saint  Etienne  du  Mont.  The  vaults  of  the 
collaterals,  almost  as  high  as  those  of  the  nave, 
rest  on  cylindrical  pillars  which  are  joined  at  a 
certain  height  in  nave  and  choir  by  a  kind  of 
balcony  that  goes  round  the  building  except  in 
the  transept.  The  nave  of  the  Theatre  at 
Rouen  presents  a  similar  promenade  gallery, 
and  perhaps  that  one  suggested  the  idea  to  the 
architect  of  this  Paris  edifice.  Two  pretty 
staircases  twining  around  pillars  enable  priests 
to  reach  a  preacher's  platform,  where  formerly 


152 


PARIS. 


the  epistle  and  gospel  used  to  be  read,  and 
where  the  choristers  were  placed.  The  pulpit 
is  one  of  the  masterpieces  of  wood  carving  of 
the  seventeenth  century,  although  its  facade 
resembles  too  much  those  pieces  of  furniture 
which,  at  the  commencement  of  that  century; 
were  called  u  cabinets,"  and  which  have  a  very 
peculiar  way  of  concealing  their  drawers,  leaves 
and  secret  places  under  niches,  angular  and 
circular  frontals,  statuettes  and  grotesque 
carvings. 

The  principal  part  of  the  Church  of  Saint 
Sulpice  belongs  to  the  seventeenth  century,  al- 
though some  of  the  work  dates  from  the  reign 
of  Louis  XV.  The  interior  most  approaches 
the  design  of  churches  for  the  Middle  Ages, 
and  it  is  well  arranged  for  worship.  In  the 
substructures,  now  used  as  burial  tombs,  are 
traces  of  the  foundations  of  a  church  which 
bore  the  name  of  St.  Pierre,  while  the  base  of 
a  clock  tower,  dating  from  the  twelfth  century, 
can  be  distinguished.  The  interior  walls  are 
decorated  with  columns,  pilasters,  precious 
marble  panels,  and  pictures  painted  by  Carle 
Vanloo ;  a  life-size  statue  in  silver  of  the  Vir- 
gin Mary  is  in  a  niche  over  the  altar ;  figures 
of  the  Apostles  decorate  the  choir;  there  are 


SAINT  GERMAIN  DES  PEES. 


153 


tombs,  one  of  an  ecclesiastic  in  the  attitude  of 
prayer,  accompanied  by  Death,  figuring  as  a 
skeleton,  also  statues  in  the  niches  of  the  lat- 
eral portals,  some  of  which  bear  the  same 
character.  The  basements  of  the  two  towers 
are  occupied  by  chapels,  and  in  the  nave  is  a 
marble  pulpit  of  splendid  workmanship  that 
was  given  to  the  parish  by  Marshal  de  Riche- 
lieu. In  front  of  the  church  is  an  open  square, 
in  the  midst  of  which  is  a  monumental  foun- 
tain. It  is  in  the  form  of  a  loggia,  and  its 
arcades  are  occupied  by  statues  of  Bossuet, 
Flechier,  Massilon  and  Fenelon.  The  Grand 
Seminary  of  St.  Sulpice,  built  in  1645,  formerly 
occupied  the  site  of  this  fountain,  but  that  estab- 
lishment was  destroyed  at  the  commencement 
of  the  nineteenth  century  and  has  since  been  re- 
built at  the  corner  of  the  Rue  Bonaparte. 

The  Church  of  Saint  Germain  des  Pres  is  all 
that  remains  of  one  of  those  celebrated  abbeys 
of  France  which  were  dedicated  by  Childebert 
to  Sainte  Croix  and  to  Saint  Vincent ;  but  it 
did  not  take  that  name  until  the  body  of  Saint 
Germain,  Bishop  of  Paris,  who  had  been 
buried  in  the  Saint  Symphorien  chapel,  was 
placed  behind  the  high  altar.  French  kings 
once  had  their  sepulchres  in  it,  but  later  on 


154 


PARIS. 


they  were  transferred  to  that  Abbey  of  Saint 
Denis  which  Dagobert  founded.  All  that  re- 
mains of  Childebert's  church  are  a  few  marble 
columns  which  were  placed  in  the  choir  during 
the  twelfth  century.  The  nave  was  rebuilt 
with  a  square  tower,  supposed  to  belong  to  the 
ninth  century,  but  the  choir  and  western  door 
belong  to  the  middle  of  the  twelfth  century. 
It  cannot,  however,  be  considered  as  an  origi- 
nal monument  of  that  epoch,  for  it  was  restored 
in  the  seventeenth  century  almost  entirely. 
As  the  architecture  has  been  eight  or  ten  times 
handled  over,  the  building  has  a  very  strange 
appearance. 

There  is  a  church  facing  the  eastern  colon- 
nade of  the  Louvre,  which,  like  many  other 
Parisian  religious  edifices,  dates  from  a  very 
remote  period.  Reference  is  made  to  Saint 
Germain  TAuxerrois,  and  in  it  all  styles  of  ar- 
chitecture, from  the  twelfth  to  the  fifteenth  cen- 
turies, are  united.  The  base  of  the  clock  tower 
belongs  to  the  twelfth,  the  principal  door 
under  the  porch  to  the  commencement  of  the 
thirteenth — the  choir  dates  from  that  same 
epoch,  the  chapel  was  built  in  the  fourteenth, 
and  the  cross-bars,  lateral  chapels,  facade  and 
western  porch  do  not  go  back  beyond  the 


SAINT  GERMAIN  L'AUXEREOIS. 


155 


fifteenth  century.  It  would  be  difficult  to 
account  for  these  constructions  at  epochs  so 
distant  from  one  another,  but  it  is  the  destiny 
of  Paris  churches  to  be  perpetually  undergoing 
changes,  additions,  and  mutilations  under  pre- 
text of  conforming  to  the  taste  of  the  period. 

In  1744,  the  choir  was  still  closed  by  a 
beautiful  jube,  or  tribune,  of  which  Pierre 
Lescot  was  the  architect  and  Jean  Goujon  the 
sculptor.  An  open  portico  is  connected  to  the 
church  by  seven  ogival  arches  which  are 
crowned  by  a  balustrade  with  openings.  This 
porch  was  built  in  1435,  and  the  coverings  of 
the  arches  are  richly  embellished  with  sculp- 
tured figures  and  lacings.  The  doors  of  the 
church  that  open  on  this  portico  are  also  decor- 
ated with  several  concentric  circles  of  statuettes. 
Above  the  two  arches,  at  the  corners  of  the 
porch,  are  small  rooms ;  one  of  them  has,  pre- 
served intact,  armorial  bearings,  seats  in  carved 
oak,  and  door  locks  of  bar  iron.  On  February 
13,  1831,  while  a  service  was  being  celebrated 
in  commemoration  of  the  assassination  of  the 
Due  de  Berri,  the  people,  irritated  at  the  ex- 
hibition of  Royalist  emblems,  invaded  and  pil- 
laged the  Church  of  Saint  Germain  V  Auxerrois. 
It  long  remained  closed,  protected  by  an  in- 


156 


PARIS. 


scription  bearing  these  words  :  "  Mairie  du  IVe 
Arrondissement,"  and  was  not  re-opened  until 
1838,  and  not  then  until  it  had  been  completely 
restored  in  every  part.  When  the  disengage- 
ment of  the  boundaries  of  the  Louvre  was 
undertaken  by  the  Second  Empire,  a  tower  was 
built  between  the  church  and  the  Mairie  of  the 
first  Arrondissement  which  was  intended  to 
regularize  the  ensemble  appearance  of  the  Place 
de  Saint  Germain  TAuxerrois,  but  the  object 
was  not  attained,  and  nothing  looks  more  strange 
than  this  clock  tower,  which  belongs  neither  to 
the  church  nor  to  the  mairie  and  is  only  a  use- 
less decoration.  The  mairie,  itself,  erected  to 
form  a  pendant  to  the  church,  has  the  effect  of 
rendering  the  aspect  of  the  building  monotonous. 

The  Church  of  Saint  Nicholas  des  Champs, 
situated  in  the  Rue  St.  Martin,  at  the  corner  of 
the  Rue  Turbigo,  is  a  very  large  religious 
edifice.  It  was  built  on  the  territory  of  the 
Priory  of  St.  Martin,  to  serve  as  chapel  to  the 
inhabitants  of  that  Faubourg,  and  the  present 
structure  was  commenced  in  the  fifteenth 
century ;  but  was  enlarged  in  accordance  with 
the  increase  of  the  population  of  the  parish, 
and  was  only  terminated  at  the  end  of  the 
sixteenth  century.    Its  numerous  chapels  are 


SAINT  THOMAS  D'AQUIN". 


157 


decorated  with  pictures,  several  of  which  are 
important.  On  the  right  lateral  front  is  a  por- 
tico that  was  finished  under  the  reign  of  Henry 
III.  It  has  preserved  all  its  decorations  and 
wood  carving,  and  is  one  of  the  best  specimens 
of  the  Renaissance  to  be  found  in  Paris. 

The  chapel  of  the  ancient  novitiate  of  Jaco- 
bins has  become  a  parish  church,  under  the  ap- 
pellation of  Saint  Thomas  d'Aquin,  and  is  sit- 
uated in  the  Rue  des  Vaches,  in  the  Faubourg 
Saint  Germain.  It  is  an  important  structure, 
which  was  commenced  in  1683,  and  completed 
during  the  eighteenth  century.  The  facade  is 
rather  commonplace,  and  the  doorjshows  poorly 
designed  details,  skillfully  carved  in  wood. 
This  church  is  encompassed  by  extensive  con- 
vent buildings,  comprising  two  cloisters  and 
numerous  dependencies,  in  which,  however, 
after  the  suppression  of  religious  orders  a 
museum  and  offices  for  the  depot  of  artillery 
was  established;  but  the  museum  was  trans- 
ferred some  years  ago  to  the  galleries  of  the 
Hotel  des  Invalides.  In  1795  the  church  was 
conceded  to  the  Theophilanthropists,  and  they 
called  it  a  Temple  of  Peace.  The  title  was  not 
a  true  one,  as  in  it  that  difference  which  led  to 
the  ruin  of  the  new  sect  first  arose. 


158 


PARIS. 


In  the  seventeenth  century  it  became  the 
fashion  to  top  churches  and  chapels  with  a  dome, 
and  each  architect  felt  bound  to  complete  his 
religious  edifice  in  that  manner.  The  nuns  of 
Notre  Dame  de  l'Assomption  were  among  the 
first  to  ask  for  such  a  plan  for  their  convent  at 
the  corners  of  the  Rues  Saints  Honore  and 
Cambon,  and  their  church  is  capped  by  an 
elegantly  designed  dome,  the  inside  of  which  is 
finely  painted.  The  chapel  and  its  sacristy  also 
possess  several  interesting  pictures.  While  the 
Madeleine  was  being  constructed,  the  Assomp- 
tion  was  the  parish  church  of  that  part  of  Paris, 
but  when  the  former  was  completed  it  became 
a  catechism  chapel.  There  is  no  longer  any 
convent,  however,  the  buildings  which  formed 
it  being  now  used  by  the  Minister  of  Finances 
for  some  of  the  archives  of  his  department. 

The  Church  of  Saint  Philippe  du  Roule,  in 
the  Rue  du  Faubourg  Saint  Honore,  was  in 
existence  in  the  thirteenth  century,  but  it  was 
re-erected  as  a  parish  church  in  the  eighteenth 
century.  In  the  Rue  Lafayette  is  a  specimen 
of  Latin  basilica,  the  Church  of  Saint  Vincent 
de  Paul,  which  is  admirably  situated,  and  pre- 
sents, exteriorly,  a  mixture  of  different  styles 
of  architecture.    Behind  an  Ionic  portico  rises 


NOTRE  DAME  DE  LORETTE.  159 


a  large  front  that  is  surmounted  by  two  square 
towers  the  large  openings  of  which,  adorned 
with  lattice  work,  suggest  rather  an  industrial 
construction  than  a  church  belfry.  The  Church 
of  Sainte  Clotilde,  in  the  Place  Bellechasse,  has 
almost  the  dimensions  of  a  thirteenth  century 
cathedral.  It  is  surmounted  by  two  stone  spires, 
but  the  negligent  style  of  its  sculptures  is 
blemished  by  the  general  heaviness  of  the 
Middle  Ages. 

In  one  of  the  court-yards  of  the  passage  St. 
Pierre,  which  communicates  with  the  Rue  St. 
Antoine  and  the  Rue  St.  Paul,  can  be  seen  the 
ruins  of  the  charnel  house  and  the  base  of  the 
clock  tower  of  the  Church  of  St.  Paul,  the 
parish  church  of  the  Kings  of  France  when  they 
occupied  the  Hotel  St.  Paul,  and  where  several 
of  their  children  were  baptised. 

The  Church  of  Notre  Dame  de  Lorette  dates 
from  the  Restoration,  and  is  in  the  form  of  a 
Roman  basilica ;  on  the  facade  is  a  portico  sur- 
mounted with  a  frontal,  composed  of  four  col- 
umns in  the  Corinthian  style,  but  which  does 
not  shelter  the  faithful  either  from  sun  or  rain. 
The  interior  is  of  fine  proportions,  and  is  com- 
fortable and  pleasing  in  appearance,  although 
some  of  the  gildings  and  embellishments  are 
more  rich  than  delicate. 


160 


PARIS. 


At  one  end  of  the  Rue  de  la  Chaussee  d?  Antin 
stands  the  Church  of  the  Trinite.  This  striking 
edifice  was  constructed  in  imitation  of  Italian 
churches  of  the  Renaissance  period.  The  facade 
is  surmounted  by  a  high  belfry,  and  there  is  a 
projecting  mass  which  forms  a  portico  or  porch. 
There  is  a  square  in  front,  which  is  intended  to 
conceal  the  difference  in  the  level  of  the  ground, 
while  three  fountains  correspond  with  the  ar- 
cades of  the  portico. 

The  churches  thus  far  mentioned  are  among 
the  oldest  in  Paris;  the  newest,  as  it  certainly 
is  the  most  prominent,  is  that  of  the  Sacred 
Heart,  up  on  Montmartre.  The  Butte  Mont- 
martre  is  one  of  the  seven  hills  on  which,  like 
Rome  of  old,  the  capital  has  been  builded. 
Many  are  the  legends  connected  with  that  small 
mountain  and  to  the  top  of  which  people  some- 
times climb  to  eat  a  sort  of  short  cake  sold  at 
the  Moulin  de  la  Galette  by  rather  pretty  girls, 
and  to  dance  of  summer  evenings  under  the  old 
trees  that  crown  its  northern  summit  close  by  a 
very  old  windmill.  After  the  German  war  a 
number  of  Parisians,  then  at  Poitiers,  united  in 
an  effort  to  erect  a  church  to  be  devoted  to  the 
worship  of  the  Sacred  Heart  of  Jesus,  which 
should  be  a  sort  of  work  of  expiation  for  the  raur- 


EGL1SE  DU  SACRE  CGEUR.  161 


der  of  tlie  Archbishop  of  Paris  by  the  Commun- 
ists. In  July,  1783,  Cardinal  Guibert,  then  at 
the  head  of  the  movement,  secured  the  formal 
approbation  of  the  National  Assembly  at  Ver- 
sailles by  inducing  that  body  to  declare  the 
project  an  enterprise  of  public  utility,  and  to 
authorise  for  its  use  the  summit  of  Montmartre. 
The  Republicans  opposed  this  measure,  but 
they  were  in  the  minority ;  the  monarchial 
groups  were  not  only  able  to  pass  this  bill  but 
they  were  strong  enough  to  overthrow  Thiers 
and  to  place  MacMahon  at  the  ]^lysee  as  Presi- 
dent of  the  Republic.  In  1875  the  cornerstone 
of  the  new  church  was  laid  by  the  Cardinal- 
Archbishop  with  much  pomp  and  ceremony. 

But  work  had  hardly  begun  before  that  Pre- 
late found  that  the  hill  of  Montmartre  was  a 
great  mass  of  soft,  friable  stone,  honeycombed 
with  galleries  of  abandoned  quarries,  hence  it 
would  never  be  able  to  support  the  weight  of 
such  a  building.  It  was  necessary  to  dig  to  a 
great  depth  some  eighty  odd  pits  or  shafts, 
and  in  these  were  constructed  pillars  of  solid 
masonry  about  fifteen  feet  square,  which  rested 
on  a  strata  of  gypsum  ninety  feet  thick,  at  a 
depth  of  seventy-five  feet  below  the  cornerstone. 
On  these  pillars  the  foundations  were  laid,  and 


162 


PAEIS. 


now  the  entire  upper  part  of  the  hill  could  be 
removed  without  in  any  way  endangering  the 
solidity  of  the  sacred  structure.  All  this,  of 
course,  added  immensely  to  the  cost  and  caused 
much  delay,  but  the  foundations  were  com- 
pleted before  the  end  of  1878.  Three  years 
later  the  first  mass  was  celebrated  in  one  of  the 
chapels,  that  of  St.  Martin,  by  the  Cardinal- 
Archbishop. 

Money  now  began  to  come  in  more  slowly, 
but,  in  1884,  the  crypt,  which  forms  a  separate 
church  placed  immediately  below  the  upper 
portion  of  the  building,  was  entirely  finished, 
and,  in  due  course  of  time,  the  rest  of  the  struc- 
ture was  completed  and  its  consecration  was 
possible.  To  raise  the  more  than  $3,500,000 
which  were  spent  on  the  building,  a  clever 
plan  was  devised  by  the  Cardinal- Archbishop 
of  Paris.  He  assigned  each  of  the  thirty-five 
chapels  to  a  certain  category  of  persons,  who 
undertook  to  provide  the  funds  for  its  construc- 
tion. Thus  the  army  assumed  the  cost  of  the 
Chapel  of  St.  Michel,  the  legal  profession  that 
of  St.  Louis,  the  doctors  that  of  St.  Luke,  the 
navy  that  of  St.  Paul,  and  so  on.  Besides  this 
way  of  raising  money,  the  Archbishop  decided 
that  any  person  might,  if  he  or  she  desired, 


PERPETUATING  ONE'S  PIETY. 


163 


present  the  church  with  a  single  stone,  that  is  to 
say,  the  cost  of  one.  For  twenty  francs  a  per- 
son could  have  a  stone  in  the  wall  named  after 
him,  and  for  three  hundred  francs  he  would  be 
entitled  to  have  his  name  carved  on  this  stone. 
The  cost  of  thus  perpetuating  one's  piety  varied 
from  $200  to  $1,000,  according  to  size  and  posi- 
tion, and  each  detail  of  the  exterior  and  inte- 
rior ornamentation  was  in  a  similar  way  at  the 
disposal  of  the  faithful. 

There  is  in  this  basilica  a  pillar  called  the 
Pilier  du  Cuseau,  which  bears  a  curious  history. 
Some  Catholic  ladies  determined  to  build  a  pil- 
lar with  money  earned  by  their  own  needles, 
and  it  was  agreed  that  each  lady  should  send 
her  offering  direct  to  the  Archbishop's  palace 
in  the  Rue  de  Grenelle.  When  they  were 
opened — lo,  and  behold  ! — there  were  nothing 
but  cushions.  There  were  long  cushions  and 
square  ones,  cushions  for  arm-chairs,  for  beds, 
for  carriages,  and  for  foot-stools.  There  were 
cushions  for  the  back,  cushions  for  doggy,  cush- 
ions for  the  Bible,  big  cushions,  little  cushions, 
all  kinds  of  cushions.  But  they  were  all  sold, 
and,  as  showing  their  number,  it  may  be  stated 
that  this  one  effort  alone  produced  $18,000. 

In  all  there  are  some  one  hundred  and  forty- 


164 


PARIS. 


two  places  of  worship  in  the  capital,1  but  there 
are  no  churchyards  to  be  used  as  burial  places, 
or  to  look  neglected  and  deserted  as  do  many  of 
those  in  London,  where  the  dead  appear  un- 
cared  for  and  forgotten.  In  Paris  most  all 
interments  must  be  made  in  cemeteries,  and  in 
these  there  are  daily  tokens  that  the  dead  are 
still  living  in  remembrance  and  affection.  In 
the  place  of  rank  grass  and  foul  weeds  spring- 
ing up  around  the  graves,  tokens  as  it  were  of 
the  corruption  below,  are  garlands  hung  on 
tombs,  and  flowers  growing  about  them.  There 
is  something  touching  in  this  ancient  Paris 
custom.  Deep  affliction,  it  is  true,  could  hardly 
bear  to  be  brought  too  closely  into  contact  with 
the  memorials  of  the  loss  which  has  caused  it ; 
but  when  grief  loses  its  character  of  despair, 
and  becomes  softened  into  melancholy,  we  love 
thus  to  weep  over  and  adorn  the  graves  of  those 
whom  we  have  dearly  loved  and  bitterly  la- 
mented. It  is  but  proper  that  the  remains  of 
those  we  loved  should  have  every  respect  and 

1  All  religions  are  under  the  State  control  of  the  Min- 
ister of  Public  Instruction,  Religions  and  Fine  Arts. 
The  actual  churches  are  Catholic,  86  ;  non-Catholic,  or 
Protestant,  46;  Jew  or  Israelite,  4  ;  New  Jerusalem, 
1 ;  Russian,  1  ;  other  religions,  5  ;  total,  142. 


CEMETERIES  OF  THE  CAPITAL. 


165 


homage,  and  to  me  it  has  always  been  a  pleasure 
to  see  how  carefully  the  graves  in  Paris  ceme- 
teries are  cared  for  by  the  hands  of  affection 
or  friendship.  Some  of  the  wreaths  may  be 
withered  and  the  flowers  faded,  but  in  most 
places  the  plants  are  carefully  tended,  the 
flowers  are  new,  the  garlands  frequently  changed 
and  the  affection  ever-perennial.  The  inscrip- 
tions on  the  tombs  are  nearly  always  in  the  best 
of  taste.  "  Tu  vivois,  on  t'amoit ;  tu  es  mort, 
on  te  pleure,"  is  very  different  from  the  cold, 
commonplace  "  He  lived  beloved,  and  died  re- 
gretted "  ;  and  what  could  be  more  touching 
than  the  simple  "  Ici  repose  Marie ! "  But 
sweetest  of  all  and  fullest  in  sorrow  is  the 
"  A  mon  seul  ami !  il  etoit  mon  frere,"  which 
is  engraved  on  a  tomb  at  Pere  La  Chaise. 

The  cemeteries  are  always  popular  places  of 
resort,  but  it  is  on  the  first  and  second  of  Novem- 
ber, that  is  to  say,  on  All  Souls  and  All  Saints 
Day  that  the  people  of  the  capital  make  them 
their  shrines  of  greatest  pilgrimages.  On  those 
days  Pere  La  Chaise  attracts  the  largest  number 
of  persons,  as  it  should,  for  it  is  the  most  cele- 
brated, the  most  picturesque,  of  all  French 
burial  places.  Situated  on  the  slope  of  a  hill  it 
forms  in  the  interior  of  the  capital  a  funeral 


166 


PARIS, 


city  of  sinuous  avenues,  and  paths  running  in 
all  possible  directions,  which  are  ornamented 
by  innumerable  monuments  and  statues  and 
border  the  graves  of  many  illustrious  dead. 
This  inclosure  was  originally  intended  to  be  a 
sort  of  pleasure  ground,  but  in  1626  the  Jesuits 
got  possession  of  the  land  and  built  a  house  on 
it.  The  story  is  that  from  one  of  the  windows 
of  that  house,  Louis  XIV,  then  an  infant,  looked 
on  at  the  famous  combat,  when  cannon  of  the 
Bastille,  aimed  by  the  "  Grand  Mademoiselle," 
fired  on  royal  troops.  Flattery,  which  never 
loses  a  good  opportunity,  took  the  incident  up, 
and  to  the  name  of  a  rural  grocer  succeeded 
that  of  the  greatest  king.  From  that  day  the 
Folie  Renault,  as  it  was  called,  took  the  name 
of  Mont  Louis,  which  designation  it  retained 
until  the  monarch  gave  it  to  his  confessor  as  a 
mark  of  his  munificence. 

Father  La  Chaise  erected  a  small  villa  on  the 
site  of  the  Jesuit's  house ;  it  was  modest  in  ap- 
pearance, had  two  stories,  looked  toward  Paris, 
and  was  surmounted  by  a  belfry  that  topped 
the  whole  country.  Then  the  public  re-bap- 
tised the  place,  named  it  after  its  new  proprie- 
tor and  it  became  a  burial  ground.  On  both 
sides  of  the  entrance  fir  trees,  placed  in  line, 


PEKE  LA  CHAISE. 


16? 


ascend  the  picturesque  incline  to  encompass 
with  green  foliage  the  square  stone  chapel  at 
the  top,  which  long  since  replaced  the  country- 
house  of  the  benevolent  Jesuit.  On  the  right 
are  the  Avenues  du  Puits,  Chemin  du  Coq, 
Chemin  du  Pere  Eternal,  etc.,  while  further  on, 
to  the  left,  are  the  Avenue  des  Acacias  and  the 
Avenue  des  Peupliers.  Both  sides  of  the  prin- 
cipal avenues  are  lined  with  the  sepulchers  of 
illustrious  persons,  and  politics,  science  and 
philosophy,  military  devotion  and  civic  courage, 
literature,  fine  arts,  sestheticism,  all  that  is  best 
in  books,  in  poetry,  in  music,  in  the  drama,  in 
painting,  in  architecture,  in  sculpture,  all  that 
is  great  in  diplomacy,  in  statecraft,  in  religion, 
and  in  love,  are  represented  in  this  Paris  ne- 
cropolis. They  form  an  abridgment  of  all  the 
glories  achieved  by  France,  and  perhaps  also, 
all  her  weaknesses. 

There  was  once  a  tomb  of  Rossini,  but  it  is 
empty  now,  so  far  as  his  remains  are  concerned. 
Florence  asked  that  the  bones  of  the  great 
composer  should  be  sent  back  to  his  native 
place,  and  this  was  done  some  years  ago.  But 
the  mausoleum  of  Auber  is  there,  that  of 
Gounod  also,  of  Ambroise  Thomas,  and  of 
other  illustrious  composers.    There  is  one  alley 


1G8 


PARIS. 


filled  with  tombs  where  painters  and  sculptors 
are  laid  away;  therein  rest  Gericault,  Isabey, 
Gros,  Ingres,  Corot,  Daubigny,  Louis  David, 
Barye,  Delacroix,  Gustave  Dore,  DubufFe,  etc. 
The  monument  of  David  d' Angers  is  vast,  but 
its  massive  contours  in  polished  granite  are  all 
that  relieve  the  art  of  the  marble-cutter.  Dau- 
mier  reposes  under  a  slab,  on  which  two  lines 
of  poetry  protect  him  from  oblivion,  while  Co- 
rot  sleeps  among  his  own  family,  without  any 
mark  of  honour  to  distinguish  him.  Other 
tombs  of  larger  proportions,  and  by  their  ampli- 
tude almost  crushing  those  around  them,  are 
seen  erected  to  the  glory  of  names  quite  un- 
known. 

The  greatness  of  the  role  a  man  has  played 
in  this  world  cannot  always  be  estimated  by  the 
size  of  his  tomb  or  the  height  of  his  monument. 
Farther  on,  in  the  midst  of  marble  sarcophagie, 
pyramids  and  obelisks  erected  to  Massena,  Su- 
chet,  Lefevre,  Saint  Cyr,  Macdonald,  Keller- 
mann,  Davoust,  and  other  great  warriors,  in  a 
small  barren  enclosure,  surrounded  by  an  iron 
fence  and  sheltered  by  cypress  trees,  are  the 
remains  of  Marshal  Ney,  but  no  exterior  sign 
reveals  to  passers  by,  that  "  the  bravest  of  the 
brave,"  is  resting  there.    Many  famous  men  lie 


NOTABLE  PERSONS  WHO  REST  THERE.  109 


forgotten  in  that  same  leafy,  wild-looking  corner. 
There  B arras  sleeps,  between  Lord  Seymour 
and  Brillat  Savarin,  not  far  from  Carnbaceres, 
who  is  entombed  beneath  a  superb  temple.  The 
modest  grave  of  Benjamin  Constant  is  almost 
immediately  in  front  of  the  ambitious  mauso- 
leum which  the  shivering  statue  of  General 
Foy  surmounts,  while  behind  is  the  heavy  monu- 
ment of  Beranger.  Hundreds  of  other  names, 
aye,  thousands  of  them,  could  be  mentioned, 
and  their  tombs  spoken  of.  The  nineteenth 
century  was  far  less  rigorous  toward  dramatic 
artistes  than  was  the  eighteenth  century  ;  Pere 
La  Chaise  is  the  last  sleeping  place  of  many 
who  were  on  the  stage.  There  is  no  longer  any 
necessity  of  an  order  from  King  or  Bishop  to 
have  place  reserved  in  consecrated  ground  for 
players.  One  of  the  streets  of  tombs  bears  the 
name  of  Talma,  while  near  his  grave  is  that  of 
Mademoiselle  Clairon.  Mademoiselle  Georges, 
Mademoiselle  Mars  and  Mademoiselle  Dugazon 
are  among  the  actresses  whose  graves  are  found  ; 
but  we  also  see  mausoleums  bearing  great  names 
which  have  never  contained  the  ashes  of  those 
whose  memories  they  honour.  This  can  be  said 
of  the  tombs  of  Racine,  Moliere  and  La  Fon- 
taine, which  were  the  first  to  decorate  these 


170 


PARIS. 


groves,  and  the  style  of  which  show  that  they 
do  not  date  beyond  the  First  Empire. 

The  tomb  of  Heloise  and  Abailard,  that  grace- 
ful ediculum  to  which  lovers  and  young  married 
couples  never  fail  to  pay  a  visit,  is  made  of 
composite  materials,  and  is  of  comparatively 
recent  construction.  The  two  recumbent 
statues  once  adorned  a  monument  erected  in  an 
old  Abbey — "  Paraclete's  white  walls  and  silver 
spring  " — and  they  were  transferred  first  of  all 
to  the  Museum  of  the  Petits  Augustins,  and 
thence  to  the  place  where  they  now  are,  while 
the  graceful  dais  which  covers  them  is  formed 
of  debris  brought  from  the  former  Abbey  of 
Chalons-sur-Saone.1  We  pass  the  sumptuous 
monument  elevated  to  the  memory  of  Thiers, 
first  President  of  the  present  Republic;  we 
ascend  the  road  of  Mont  Louis,  to  find  ourselves 

1This  historical  tomb  bears  three  inscriptions,  all  on 
the  same  side.  Those  at  the  two  extremities  are  as  fol- 
lows: "  Ce  tombeau  (T Abailard  a  ete  transports  de 
l'Eglise  de  St.  Marcelles,  Chalons-sur-Saone,  en  Tan  8." 
— "  Les  restes  d'Heloise  et  d'Abailard  sont  reunis  dans 
ce  tombeau."  The  centre  one  is  very  long,  and  pur- 
ports to  have  been  placed  there  by  Catherine  de  la 
Eochefoucaulcl,  June  8,  1701  ;  it  declares  that  the 
couple  were  married,  and  calls  their  letters  "le  plus 
tendres  et  le  plus  spirituelles." 


BURYING  GROUND  OF  MONT  MARTRE.  171 


among  tombs  occupied  by  those  who  were  once 
amiable  artists,  and  literary  personages ;  we 
stroll  through  other  alleys,  harbouring  the  graves 
of  famous  individuals  who  have  been  buried  at 
Pere  La  Chaise,  and  close  our  visit  to  the  place 
with  a  glance  at  the  tombs  of  two  aeronauts, 
named  Sivel  and  Croce  Stinelli,  who  were 
struck  down  like  Titan  giants  of  mythology,  for 
wanting  to  climb  to  heaven. 

Hurrying  thence,  we  visit  next  the  cemetery 
of  Montmartre,  which  also  is  picturesquely  sit- 
uated. But  one  may  look  in  vain  for  winding 
and  leafy  avenues  to  conceal  the  tombs.  Mont- 
martre is  a  bourgeois  sort  of  cemetery,  the 
whole  of  which  cannot  reveal  to  us  half  a  dozen 
famous  names  or  more  than  two  or  three  funeral 
monuments.  Even  politics  seem  to  be  less 
manifested  there  than  on  the  hill  of  Mont 
Louis.  The  tomb  of  Godfrey  Cavaignac,  where 
the  proud  tribune  reposes  between  his  father 
and  his  brother  Eugene,  a  tomb  which  contains 
three  of  the  men  whom  French  liberalism 
greatly  honors,  is  almost  abandoned,  and  seldom 
receives  a  single  wreath.  The  tombs  of  the 
Duchess  d'Abrantes  and  Leon  Gozlan  are 
adorned  with  medallions ;  those  of  Theophile 
Gautier  and  Mery  are  surmounted  by  statues  of 


PARIS. 


poetry;  Henri  Riviere  and  Jacob,  the  biblio- 
philist,  each  possess  a  bust  recalling  their 
features,  while  a  statue  of  Youth  rises  above 
the  monument  of  Murger.  A  wreath  adorned 
with  a  lyre,  and  surrounded  by  marble  urns, 
decorates  the  tomb  of  Victor  Masse  ;  a  column 
supports  the  bust  of  Offenbach,  and  a  very  high 
stela  shows  the  name  of  Berlioz.  Ary  Scheff  er, 
Giraud  and  Mademoiselle  Haudebout-Lescot 
are  contented  with  the  traditional  vault ;  Troyon 
has  his  name  cut  into  a  pretentiously  formed 
stela;  the  tombs  of  Horace  Vernet  and  Paul 
Delaroche  are  devoid  of  all  picturesque  ornamen- 
tation, while  of  the  tombs  of  litterateurs  and 
artists  that  of  Lambert  Thiboust  is  perhaps  the 
most  elegant. 

The  cemetery  of  Mont  Parnasse  is  quite 
across  the  city  from  Montmartre,  and  of  all 
Paris  burying-grounds  it  is  the  least  picturesque. 
The  land  is  flat,  the  avenues  straight,  the  shady 
places  r^tre;  until  1824  it  was  only  used  for 
burying  the  dead  from  hospitals  or  victims  sent 
there  from  the  scaffold.  Still  there  are  many 
distinguished,  not  to  say  illustrious,  names 
carved  in  its  tombs  and  monuments.  But  in 
spite  of  its  medallions,  busts,  wreaths  and 
mausoleums  the  cemetery  of  Mont  Parnasse 


BURIAL  PLACE  OF  LAFAYETTE.  173 


retains  a  sorrowful  aspect  and  is  monotonous. 
There  is  not  another  cemetery  in  France  which 
contains  more  victims  of  civil  dissensions  than  it. 

These  three  necropoli  constitute  the  ones 
generally  visited  by  strangers,  but  they  are  not 
the  sole  burial  grounds  of  the  great  capital. 
The  annexation  of  suburbs  added  fifteen  ceme- 
teries to  the  city,  some  of  which  are  very  old, 
although  without  particular  history,  and  some 
are  quite  forgotten.  There  is  one  other  ceme- 
tery, that  of  Picpus,  which  must  not  be  left 
unmentioned.  It  is  the  place  already  referred 
to  as  the  spot  where  so  many  victims  of  the 
guillotine  were  laid  away.  It  is  not,  however, 
because  of  those  who  were  struck  by  the 
"  sword  of  the  law,"  that  I  would  mention 
Picpus  here,  it  is  because  on  our  own  Memorial 
or  Decoration  Day,  that  is  to  say,  on  the  thir- 
tieth of  May,  in  every  year,  some  few  Ameri- 
cans, who  happen  to  be  in  Paris,  go  to  it  to  lay 
flowers  on  the  grave  of  a  great-hearted  JFrench- 
man  who  did  much  to  gain  us  our  Independence. 
The  cemetery  of  Picpus  is  the  burying  ground 
of  some  of  the  highest  nobility  the  Old  World 
has  ever  known,  but  it  also  is  the  resting  place 
of  General  de  Lafayette,  the  friend  and  army 
companion  of  George  Washington. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


Free  Colleges  since  the  earliest  times — The  first  educa- 
tional establishments — Study  of  Philosophy  and 
Theology — Grands  and  Petits  Lycees — Annual 
appropriation  to  public  instruction  by  the  State — 
Classes  free  to  all  in  the  superior  grades — The  pri- 
mary schools — School  buildings  large,  light  and 
airy — Things  which  surprise  foreigners,  as  for  in- 
stance free  lunches — The  keynote  of  public  school 
administration — Manual  labour  in  the  program 
— Special  attention  given  to  domestic  economy — 
The  pedagogic  methods — Mixed  schools  not  popu- 
lar— The  pay  of  teachers — Cost  of  public  instruc- 
tion in  France  about  $60,000,000  annually. 

Free  public  instruction  in  the  schools  of 
Paris  was  a  thing  unknown  until  within  com- 
paratively recent  years,  but  free  colleges  of 
some  kind  have  existed  in  the  city  since  the 
earliest  times.  The  teachers  in  those  first  edu- 
cational establishments  were  all  priests  or 
monks  and  only  a  few  branches  of  learning 
were  embraced  in  existing  studies.  The  earli- 
est schools  or  colleges  were  controlled  by 
bishops,  aided  of  course  by  the  reigning  king. 


EARLY  INSTRUCTION.  175 


In  the  beginning  they  were  only  intended  for  a 
small  number  of  pupils;  but  soon  they  took 
on  size  and  strength,  and  some  of  them  became 
even  great  by  reason  of  the  number  of  students 
admitted, the  sciences  taught,  and  the  "  masters," 
or  professors,  engaged  in  the  work  of  education. 
As  a  rule,  however,  and  until  toward  the  end 
of  the  fifteenth  or  the  commencement  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  instruction  was  mainly  limited 
to  a  study  of  Philosophy  and  Theology,  very 
little  attention  being  given  to  Belles  Lettres 
and  the  Sciences.    But  about  the  time  indi- 
cated the  French  language  was  purified  some- 
what, sovereigns  began  to  take  interest  in 
Literature  and  Science,  men  of  genius  arose,  and 
centuries  followed  which  surpassed  anything 
that  could  ever  have  been  dreamt  of  in  ancient 
Paris.    Before  the  Revolution  these  were  di- 
vided into  two  classes,   Grands  and  Petits. 
Those  where  Language,  Philosophy,  the  Sciences 
and  the  Humanites  were  taught  bore  the  title 
of  Grands  ;  in  the  Petits  the  study  of  Philoso- 
phy alone  was  taught.    There  were  ten  Grands 
Colleges  and  forty-one  Petits  Colleges  before 
the  Revolution,  some  of  them  dating  back  to 
the  fourteenth,  thirteenth  and  twelfth  centuries. 
Such  of  these  colleges  as  were  in  existence  at 


176 


• 

PARIS. 


the  time  of  the  First  Empire  were  called  Lycees  ; 
but  under  the  Restoration  they  became  Colleges 
Hoyaux,  and  all  were  subject  to  the  University. 
Later  on  the  name  Lycee  was  restored  to  them 
and  they  are  still  known  by  that  term. 

The  total  appropriation  made  annually  for 
the  Department  of  Government  under  the  Min- 
ister of  Public  Instruction,  Religions  and  Fine 
Arts  is  now  about  $52,000,000  for  the  whole  of 
France,  divided  as  follows :  Fine  Arts,  $1,800, 
000  ;  Religion,  $9,400,000  ;  Public  Instruction, 
$40,800,000.  This  is  the  State's  aid  towards 
education,  and  more  than  half  of  it  is  distributed 
in  towns  having  less  than  one  hundred  thousand 
inhabitants.  National  Lycees  are  accorded  $2, 
135,000;  Normal  Schools,  Primary  and  Supe- 
rior, $1, 780,000,  etc.  Professors  of  the  first  class 
at  the  Sorbonne,  at  the  College  of  France,  at 
the  Law  School,  and  at  the  School  of  Medicine 
receive  $3,000  each,  per  annum;  those  of  the 
second  class  are  paid  $2,400.  There  are  three 
degrees  of  instruction — Primary,  Secondary, 
and  Superior,  and  of  these  the  State  gives  free 
education  in  the  Primary  and  Superior  degrees. 
Superior  instruction  includes  the  faculties  of 
Theology  (Protestant  and  Catholic) ;  Medicine, 
Law,  Letters  and  Sciences,  Pharmacy;  the  Col- 


THE  PRIMARY  SCHOOLS.  177 


lege  de  France  Museum  of  Natural  History, 
Bureau  of  Longitudes,  State  Observatories, 
Superior  Normal  Schools,  the  Schools  of  Rome 
and  Athens,  etc.  These  classes  are  public  and 
for  everybody,  spectators  of  both  sexes  being 
admitted  free. 

The  primary  schools  take  the  children  from 
the  age  of  six  and  keep  them  until  the  age  of 
twelve.  Then,  if  they  are  to  continue  their 
schooling,  the  higher  primary  schools  receive 
them  for  a  few  years  longer,  until  they  are  ready 
for  the  secondary  education  which  is  given  in 
the  lycees,  or  colleges,  or  in  the  professional 
and  trades  schools.  All  this  education  is  had 
for  nothing,  and  the  city  even  helps  the  children 
of  the  needy  to  live  meanwhile.  And  it  is  not 
only  book  learning  which  is  given.  Even  in 
the  primary  schools  the  girls  learn  housekeep- 
ing, from  kitchen  work  and  buying  in  the 
market,  to  mending  and  making  their  dresses, 
while  boys  can  practice  joinery  and  blacksmith- 
ing.  From  the  start  the  boys  and  girls  are  put 
in  separate  schools.  This  is  a  change  from  the 
maternal  or  baby  schools,  in  which  working 
people  leave  their  children  during  the  day,  and 
where,  on  benches  for  two,  a  boy  and  a  girl  are 
seated  together.    In  the  primary  schools  there 


178 


PARIS. 


are  no  female  teachers  for  the  boys,  with  a  few 
exceptions  for  the  very  youngest  ones.  But  the 
course  of  studies  and  the  general  discipline  are 
the  same  for  both  sexes.  In  each  school  there 
are  three  grades  according  to  age.  The  ele- 
mentary course  has  the  children  from  six  to 
eight,  the  middle  course  from  eight  to  ten,  the 
higher  course  from  ten  to  twelve.  There  are 
divisions  in  each  grade,  according  to  progress 
in  study,  with  as  many  classes  as  the  number  of 
scholars  demands.  The  rule  is  that  there  shall 
be  not  more  than  fifty  scholars  in  the  lowest 
classes,  or  forty  in  the  higher.  As  the  first  re- 
sult of  this  school  system  has  been  to  prepare 
a  great  many  more  teachers  than  can  possibly 
be  placed,  it  is  for  the  interest  of  the  school 
authorities  to  multiply  classes  as  much  as  they 
can.  This  is  especially  true  of  the  girls'  schools, 
for  which  there  are  several  thousand  more 
school  mistresses  waiting  than  are  wanted. 

The  newer  school  buildings  are  large,  light 
and  airy.  The  tables  and  benches  are  made  of 
five  different  sizes,  with  only  two  children 
sitting  together.  But  there  are  other  things 
which  more  surprise  the  foreigner.  We  can 
understand  the  covered  yard  for  exercise  in 
rainy  weather,  which  is  frequent  here  in  addition 


PUPILS  TREATED  LIBERALLY.  179 


to  the  large,  open  playground,  but  we  are 
puzzled  by  the  kitchen,  the  dining-room,  the 
shop  for  eatables  and  the  workrooms.  One  is 
apt  to  say  that  a  Paris  public  day  school  is  very 
like  that  of  an  orphan's  home.  To  tell  the 
truth,  the  great  city  treats  its  children  almost 
like  orphans,  for  whom  everything  must  be 
done  freely.  The  parents  are  supposed  to  con- 
tribute according  to  their  ability,  but  the  sum 
asked  is  small  and  easily  dispensed  with. 
Here  rare  some  of  the  gratuities  which  Paris 
gives  in  this  way  to  the  scholars  of  its  public 
schools  : 

First. — Books,  paper  and  other  stationery 
are  furnished  to  all  the  scholars,  rich  or  poor, 
free  of  charge.  Taking  all  the  children,  big  and 
little,  together,  this  amounts  to  about  one  dollar 
per  year  for  each  scholar. 

Very  much  of  the  work  in  Paris  schools  is 
done  on  the  walls  of  the  classroom,  which  are 
entirely  taken  up  with  blackboard  surface  for 
all  manner  of  lessons,  writing,  arithmetic,  gram- 
mar, drawing,  also  large  maps  by  the  aid  of 
which  the  study  of  geography  and  history,  of 
physiology  and  the  natural  history  of  flowers 
and  animals,  is  carried  on.  This  does  away 
with  the  need  of  many  books.    The  children 


180 


PARIS. 


do  not  know  the  general  geography  of  the 
world,  perhaps,  as  well  as  American  scholars, 
but  they  seem  to  be  well  up  in  all  that  concerns 
their  own  country.  And  they  certainly  know 
how  to  count  and  reckon  money,  especially  the 
girls ;  for  the  true  female  equality  in  France 
consists  in  the  fact  that  women  are  nearly  al- 
ways the  cashiers  and  the  book-keepers  for  their 
husbands  or  for  their  fathers. 

Second. — The  next  thing  which  the  city  fur- 
nishes to  all  the  day  scholars  of  its  public 
schools  is  a  solid  meal  at  the  hour  of  noon. 
There  are  two  reasons  for  this.  With  the 
French  habit  of  never  trusting  their  children 
far  out  of  sight,  a  great  number  of  the  scholars 
would  not  be  able  to  run  home  for  lunch,  and 
the  city  is  too  generous  to  oblige  them  to 
undergo  the  cold  comfort  of  a  dinner  pail.  In 
the  second  place,  many  of  the  children  from 
the  poorer  quarters  would  stand  small  chance 
of  having  anything  nourishing  to  eat  if  the 
matter  were  left  to  their  parents.  So  the 
motherly  city  has  taken  the  burden  on  itself  in 
such  a  way  that  there  shall  be  no  appearance  of 
inequality  between  children  who  can  pay  for 
what  they  receive  and  those  who  receive  every- 
thing for  nothing.    The  meal,  the  preparation  of 


FKEE  MEALS  AT  NOONDAY. 


181 


which  is  the  industry  of  the  janitor's  wife  or 
of  some  regular  caterer,  is  usually  served  in  the 
covered  playroom.  Each  student  has  a  bowl 
of  soup  and  a  plate  of  steaming  meat  and  vege- 
tables. All  are  supposed  to  bring  from  home 
in  their  little  baskets  the  bread  which  they 
need,  and  if  they  wish  to  drink  anything  but 
water,  a  bottle  of  milk  or  wine  (thin  wine  is 
the  usual  drink  of  the  Paris  poor  at  home). 
Fond  mothers  may  even  add  a  bit  of  cheese  or 
pastry  by  way  of  dessert ;  but  where  the  parents 
are  very  poor,  the  child  receives  his  piece 
of  bread  from  the  school  canteen  and  no  other 
scholar  is  the  wiser  for  this  generosity.  To 
get  their  portions,  each  child  presents  a  copper 
check.  The  parents  of  those  who  pay  have 
given  from  three  to  four  cents  for  this — not  a 
dear  lunch,  considering  what  is  furnished — but 
those  children  whose  parents  have  paid  noth- 
ing have  the  same  copper  check  in  their  hand 
to  give  in  for  their  portion  in  sight  of  the 
others. 

Third. — Decent  and  warm  clothing  is  an- 
other necessity  of  school  children;  but  in 
Paris,  many  of  the  poor  are  unable  to  procure 
clothing  for  their  children,  and  so  the  city  has 
taken  this  matter  in  hand  along  with  books  and 


182 


PARIS. 


meals.  The  Paris  Municipal  Council,  besides 
voting  extra  subsidies  to  the  schools  of  each 
quarter  according  to  the  needs  of  the  popula- 
tion, authorises  the  directors  of  the  schools 
•  to  set  in  motion  a  whole  machinery  for  increas- 
ing the  fund — subscription  lists,  door  to  door 
collections  from  the  rich  people  of  the  quarter, 
festivities,  for  entrance  to  which  money  is  re- 
ceived, all  the  way  from  theatricals  to  banquets. 
With  this  money  the  cashier  of  the  school  is 
authorised  to  buy  shoes  and  clothing  for  those 
whose  parents  cannot  furnish  what  is  necessary 
to  put  them  on  a  footing  of  equality  with  all 
the  other  children.  This  is  the  keynote  of 
Paris  public  school  administration — absolute 
equality  of  the  scholars  while  they  are  at 
school.  The  tendency  of  the  French  to  wear 
uniforms — in  the  case  of  school  children  a  dark 
blue  blouse  and  cap — makes  this  a  fairly  easy 
task.  But  the  cashiers  duty  does  not  end 
here.  If  a  child  is  found  to  be  ailing,  he  may 
draw  on  his  funds  for  anything  needed  to  keep 
the  youngster  at  school,  from  a  flannel  shirt  to 
a  sticking  plaster  or  a  green  shade  for  weak 
eyes. 

Furthermore,  an  idea  prevails  that  school 
boys  and  girls  will  not  profit  during  the  ses- 


PLEASANT  VACATIONS. 


183 


sion  unless  they  have  a  pleasant  vacation.  Be- 
sides, the  vacation  can  be  made  to  serve  for 
instruction  as  well  as  health.  This  idea  gave 
rise  to  vacation  journeys  and  school  colonies, 
which  the  city  of  Paris  pays  for  out  of  its  own 
pocket,  or  at  least  out  of  the  cash  box  of  each 
separate  school.  These  journeys  are  oftenest 
for  a  day,  but  they  are  frequently  for  a  week, 
while  some  few  Arrondissements  have  school 
colonies  which  take  the  children  away  from 
their  families  and  from  the  city  for  an  entire 
month.  The  children  who  are  to  enjoy  free 
trips  to  the  country  for  a  day  are  chosen  among 
all  who  have  behaved  themselves.  But  for 
the  long  trips  the  children  of  well-to-do  parents 
are  not  supposed  to  compete ;  usually  they  are  off 
for  the  vacation  with  their  own  families.  The 
school  authorities  are  instructed  to  give  always 
the  preference  to  the  children  of  the  poorest 
families,  and  among  these  to  the  best  behaved 
ones.  The  simple  trips  reach  as  far  as  from 
Paris  to  the  seaside  at  Havre,  or  Dieppe  (five 
hours  by  rail).  Often  they  are  made  to  the 
Forest  of  Fontainebleau,  where  the  city  chil- 
dren are  supposed  to  learn  something  about 
trees  and  nature  in  general.  The  longer  jour- 
neys have  been  made  into  Switzerland  ;  while 


184 


PARIS, 


the  colonies  for  a  month's  time  are  farmed  out 
in  the  mountains  of  the  Vosges  or  other 
healthy  parts  of  Provincial  France.  They  are 
under  the  direction  of  the  school  physician 
who  also  has  a  voice  in  choosing  the  children 
who  may  go. 

Each  scholar  has  to  keep  a  diary  during 
this  absence,  and  this  is  corrected  on  the  return 
as  an  exercise  in  French  composition.  Then  it 
is  handed  over  to  be  read  in  the  family,  joyful 
to  have  a  share  in  the  pleasures  of  their  little 
child.  The  girls  are  said  to  write  unusually 
interesting  notes.  Here  is  a  specimen  from  the 
diary  of  an  eleven-year-old  girl,  who  passed 
this  first  month  of  her  life  outside  of  Paris  with 
her  companions  at  Saint  Die,  in  the  east  of 
France,  where  the  children  could  see  before 
them  the  blue  mountains  of  Alsace,  which  the 
Germans  took  from  their  country  in  1870: 

"  At  dinner  we  had  beef  and  potatoes — the 
regulation  beef  and  potatoes.  I  shall  have  had 
enough  beef  for  the  rest  of  my  days.  It  seems 
that  the  people  of  Saint  Die  eat  boiled  meat 
every  day.  I  may  grow  bigger  and  older,  but 
I  will  never  marry  a  man  from  Saint  Die.  I 
should  be  afraid  that  he  would  keep  up  his 
unhappy  taste  for  boiled  beef." 


MANUAL  LABOUR  TAUGHT.  185 


The  teaching  of  gymnastics  in  Paris  schools 
has  little  that  is  noteworthy  except  that  it  is 
obligatory  both  for  girls  and  boys.  A  more 
interesting  movement  was  the  introduction  of 
manual  labour  into  the  public  school  pro- 
gramme. A  few  hours  each  week  are  given  to 
sewing  and  mending — to  the  darning  of  stock- 
ings and  the  making  of  baby-linen ;  they  are  en- 
couraged to  do  this  work  for  their  own  families, 
all  extra  work  going  to  the  foundling  asylums. 
Finally,  in  all  these  primary  schools  every  one 
has  to  learn  something  of  drawing  and  the 
elements  of  singing.  After  the  age  of  twelve 
years,  there  are  still  many  of  the  pupils  who 
do  not  wish,  or  are  not  able,  to  take  the  full 
and  formal  course  of  the  high  schools  properly 
so  called,  yet  their  parents  would  like  to 
see  them  still  for  a  time  under  instruction. 
For  all  these,  up  to  the  age  of  fifteen,  what  are 
called  complementary  courses  are  opened  in 
each  of  the  primary  schools.  These  are  for 
the  advanced  mathematics  and  natural  sciences, 
especially  in  their  practical,  every-day  applica- 
tions for  book-keeping  and  the  foreign  lan- 
guages (practically  limited  to  German  and 
English),  for  drawing,  and  for  a  little  more 
music. 


186 


PARIS. 


There  is  a  great  amount  and  variety  of  atten- 
tion given  to  practical  working  with  the  hands. 
With  the  boys  this  has  not  gone  far  beyond 
good  cabinet  work,  as  anything  else  would  turn 
the  school  into  a  trade  apprenticeship  ;  but  the 
natural  trade  of  all  girls  is  housekeeping.  Ac- 
cordingly, these  are  not  only  taught  all  kinds 
of  sewing,  they  receive  special  lessons  in  the 
cutting  out  and  making  up  of  clothes.  This 
comprises  most  of  the  secrets  of  Parisian  dress- 
making, with  spring  bonnets.  More  wonderful 
still  are  what  are  properly  called  the  house- 
keeping classes.  These  were  begun  during  two 
hours  on  Thursdays  only,  in  one  central  school 
of  each  ward,  but  now  they  are  in  each  of  the 
larger  public  schools.  A  special  teacher  ex- 
plains systematically  some  branch  of  domestic 
economy — the  qualities  of  food  and  drinks,  the 
elementary  principles  of  cooking  and  providing 
for  household  necessities,  the  concocting  of 
teas  and  simple  remedies  for  sickness,  washing 
and  ironing,  heating  and  lighting,  and  all  that 
concerns  the  management  of  the  home.  All 
the  girls  of  the  course  have  to  go  by  turns  of 
ten  through  real  kitchen  and  laundry  work. 
In  the  former  they  are  called  on  to  do  the  mar- 
keting of  the  day's  meal  for  their  set,  under 


PEDAGOGIC  METHODS. 


187 


the  eyes  of  the  teacher  and  the  cooking  mis- 
tress. They  are  allowed  to  dispose  of  ten 
francs  (two  dollars)  for  the  meal  of  ten  per- 
sons. They  have  eight  bills  of  fare  to  make 
up  in  winter,  and  as  many  more  in  summer. 
After  they  have  cooked  the  lunch  thus  chosen, 
they  are  supposed  to  eat  it.  In  fact,  it  will  be 
their  only  meal  at  school  that  day.  In  the 
laundry,  also,  they  are  not  let  off  with  merely 
wetting  their  hands  ;  real  work  is  given  them 
to  do. 

As  to  the  pedagogic  methods,  the  Republic  has 
made  much  progress  of  late  years ;  there  is, 
however,  a  good  deal  of  empiricism  in  the  meth- 
ods still  in  use,  and  a  "  culture  pedagogique  " 
is  still  lacking.  The  system  adopted  in  the 
Lycees  for  instruction  in  the  classical  studies, 
strikes  one  as  correct,  and  all  that  it  needs  is 
to  perfect  it.  Scientific  teaching  is  generally 
good  in  France,  and  that  in  what  are  called 
higher  studies  is  without  superiority  in  any 
other  country.  Discipline  in  French  schools  is 
less  austere  than  in  England,  and  it  brings  to 
its  aid  the  vanity  of  pupils  quite  as  much  as 
their  sense  of  duty,  or  a  consciousness  of  what 
is  right  and  wrong.  The  whole  system  of 
rewards  turns  on  this  personal  vanity,  which 


188 


PARIS, 


is  stimulated  by  good  marks,  honourable  men- 
tion, medals,  decorations,  wreaths,  and  competi- 
tive examinations  for  prizes  of  all  sorts.  All 
this  is  in  harmony  with  French  ideas,  and  he 
would  indeed  be  a  bold  reformer  who  should 
attempt  to  bring  about  any  radical  change  in 
it.  Not  only  pupils,  but  their  instructors,  are 
stimulated  in  the  same  way,  by  a  system  of 
promotions,  by  rewards,  and  the  bestowal  of 
purely  honorific  distinctions. 

Education  is  obligatory,  and  not  only  are  all 
primary  schools  absolutely  gratuitous,  but  each 
one  of  the  thirty-six  thousand  Communes  in 
France  is  required  to  keep  up  its  primaries. 
The  Conseil  General,  or  local  board  that  gov- 
erns each  Department,  may,  however,  authorise 
adjoining  Communes  in  their  Department  to 
maintain  in  common  a  primary  school,  and  the 
board  may  even  dispense  a  Commune  from  the 
obligation  of  providing  means  for  primary  edu- 
cation where  there  exists  any  non-State  school 
within  its  limits,  where  such  education  is  given 
gratuitously  to  children  of  those  parents  living 
in  the  district  who  are  unable  to  pay  for  it. 

Primary  schools  for  girls  are  divided  into 
two  classes,  and  they  are  known  as  those  of  the 
first  and  second  order.    Under  certain  circum- 


MIXED  SCHOOLS  NOT  POPULAR. 


189 


stances,  the  children  of  both  sexes  may  be  provi- 
sionally admitted  into  the  same  schoolhouse; 
but  the  average  annual  attendance  of  pupils  at 
such  schools,  cannot  at  any  time  during  three 
years,  exceed  forty ;  and  if  the  teacher  already 
appointed  is  a  man,  the  Prefect  of  the  Depart- 
ment must  appoint,  on  the  nomination  of  the 
Mairie  of  the  Commune,  a  woman  to  look  after 
the  girl  pupils.  But  no  primary  can  receive 
pupils  of  both  sexes  if  there  be  already  a  pub- 
lic school  for  girls  in  the  Commune  and,  even 
in  those  mixed  schools,  boys  and  girls  are  not 
allowed  together  but  must  be  separated  from 
each  other  by  a  partition  at  least  five  feet  high, 
and  so  arranged  that  the  teacher  can  see  on 
both  sides  of  it.  The  recesses  are  also  at  diff er- 
ent  hours,  and  are  separated  from  each  other 
by  at  least  fifteen  minutes,  while  the  same  dif- 
ference of  time  must  separate  the  school  hours 
both  for  the  commencement  and  letting  out  of 
school. 

The  mixed  schools  are  not  popular  among 
French  people,  and  are  only  tolerated  when  it 
cannot  be  otherwise.  The  system  of  education 
is  based  primarily  on  the  absolute  separation 
of  the  two  sexes,  and,  strange  to  say,  the  objec- 
tions of  tli3  parents  to  mixed  school?  are  based 


190 


PARIS. 


precisely  on  those  moral  arguments  which,  are 
generally  advanced  in  their  favour  in  the  United 
States.  In  Paris,  as  elsewhere,  for  that  matter, 
the  school  is  more  or  less  the  reflection  of  society, 
and  there  are  two  things  which,  perhaps  more 
than  any  other  of  the  many  differences  between 
them,  distinguish  European  fiom  American 
society.  These  are  the  intercourse  between  the 
sexes  and  the  manner  in  which,  in  our  country, 
everyone  is  expected  to  defend  and  protect  him 
or  herself.  The  liberty  enjoyed  by  women, 
and  more  especially  by  young  and  unmarried 
women,  in  America  is  proverbial,  while,  on  the 
other  hand,  no  young  girl  of  the  better  class 
ever  goes  out  alone  in  France,  nor  is  she  ever 
only  accompanied  or  at  least  very  rarely  so, 
by  her  brother,  and  still  more  rarely  by  a  less 
near  male  relative. 

Travelling  alone,  or  receiving  male  visitors 
without  an  elderly  lady  being  present,  is  some- 
thing a  French  girl  is  never  permitted  to  do. 
Young  girls  have  not,  as  with  us,  the  right  to 
expect  to  be  treated  with  respect  when  alone, 
and  a  lady  rarely  if  ever  finds  herself  the  object 
of  polite  and  kindly  meant  intentions  from  the 
men  with  whom  she  comes  in  contact  on  rail- 
ways, at  theatres,  or  elsewhere.    The  way  men 


DIFFERENT  SYSTEMS  OF  EDUCATION.  191 


put  themselves  out  in  the  United  States  for  the 
sake  of  politeness  toward  women  who  are  utter 
strangers  to  them,  is  one  of  the  things  which 
most  surprises  Frenchmen  when  they  visit  our 
country. 

The  French  system  of  education,  in  the  mat- 
ter of  the  preservation  of  the  morality  of 
children,  also  follows  an  entirely  opposite 
method  from  that  in  vogue  with  us.  All  the 
efforts  which  we  bring  to  bear  in  order  to 
render  our  children  capable  of  resisting  temp- 
tations, the  French  employ  in  keeping  their 
children  from  being  exposed  to  those  same 
temptations.  I  have  not  much  confidence  in 
French  education  on  this  point,  for,  as  I  have 
more  than  once  said,  when  having  occasion  to 
discuss  the  matter,  it  is  impossible  to  absolutely 
keep  young  people  out  of  the  way  of  a  chance 
to  do  wrong,  and  then  they  find  themselves  in 
the  presence  of  a  danger  for  which  they  are 
not  prepared.  Beside,  the  time  must  come  when 
it  is  no  longer  possible  to  keep  them  constantly 
under  one's  eyes,  and  lads  just  out  of  college, 
or  girls  freshly  emancipated  from  maternal 
restraint,  are  not  prepared  to  face  the  tempta- 
tions to  which  even  they  are  inevitably  exposed, 
and  that  the  result  is  often  calamitous  no  one 


192 


PARIS. 


who  knows  anything  about  Paris  society  will 
deny.  In  America  we  proceed  differently,  pre- 
paring our  young  folks  to  live  together  and  to 
mutually  respect  each  other  while  they  are  still 
at  school. 

As  they  have  always  been  thrown  together 
in  their  youth,  nothing  seems  strange  to  them 
when  they  come  together  in  social  intercourse. 
It  is  rather  by  separating  them  that  evil  ideas 
are  apt  to  find  place  in  their  minds  ;  moreover, 
both  sexes  gain  much  in  manners  by  being  thus 
thrown  together  in  early  life.  If  this  were  only 
a  theory  it  might,  perhaps,  be  questioned,  but 
it  is  the  result  of  long  experience,  and  superin- 
tendents, professors  and  teachers,  who  have  had 
anything  to  do  with  American  mixed  schools, 
are  unanimous  in  their  favour.  There  are,  it  is 
true,  objections  to  the  coadjutation  of  the  sexes, 
at  least  when  they  have  attained  a  certain  age, 
which  are  not  so  easy  to  answer.  Girls  and 
boys  who  are  thus  freely  thrown  together  will, 
in  many  cases,  fall  in  love  with  each  other,  and 
marriages  will  be  the  result.  While,  of  course, 
this  result  follows  in  America,  where  it  is 
looked  upon  as  a  natural  and  proper  thing,  it  is 
considered  in  France  the  abomination  of  deso- 
lation for  young  people — I  am  always  speaking 


TOTAL  NUMBER  OF  PRIMARY  SCHOOLS.  193 


of  the  middle  and  wealthy  classes — to  arrange 
their  own  matrimonial  affairs. 

The  total  number  of  primary  schools  in  France, 
exclusive  of  infant  schools  (  "  ecoles  mater- 
nelles")  is  about  ninety  thousand.  Of  these  four 
thousand  are  private  and  at  least  ten  thousand 
are  in  the  hands  of  the  Catholic  Church.  In 
some  parts  of  the  Republic  these  church  schools 
are  more  numerous  than  are  the  public  ones. 
There  is,  moreover,  an  u  enseignement  libre 
laique  "  (as  the  system  of  education  which  is 
independent  of  Church  and  State  is  called),  but 
these  are  in  the  minority  compared  with  the 
"  enseignement  congregationiste."  These  ninety 
thousand  schools  bear  on  their  registers  some- 
thing like  six  millions  of  children,  but  the  attend- 
ance is  not  always  what  it  should  be,  the 
number  attending  regularly  being  only  about 
five  millions,  and  the  fault  is  to  be  largely 
attributed  to  the  School  Commissioners,  the 
way  they  are  chosen,  and  the  manner  in  which 
they  discharge  their  duties. 

These  Commissioners  are  too  often  appointed 
for  political  reasons  ;  the  position  is  frequently 
given  to  a  man  not  because  he  is  believed  to  be 
adapted  for  the  place,  but  because  he  is  known 
to  possess  local  influence  that  can  be  made  use 


194 


PAKIS. 


of  at  election  times.  Entrusted  with  the  duty 
of  enforcing  the  law  of  1882,  concerning  com- 
pulsory education,  they  are  apt  to  grant  excuses 
to  parents  whose  votes  are  wanted,  and  permit 
them  to  keep  children  at  home  instead  of  send- 
ing them  to  school  as  they  should  do.  In  1878 
there  were  one  hundred  and  ten  thousand  seven 
hundred  teachers  of  both  sexes  in  France,  while 
in  1899  their  number  had  increased  to  one 
hundred  and  thirty  thousand.  To  assure  the 
recruiting  of  teachers  the  law  obliges  each  De- 
partment to  keep  up  two  normal  schools — -one 
for  males  and  one  for  females — and  there  is  not 
a  department  which  is  lacking  in  this  particular. 
A  law  also  exists  which  divides  male  and  fe- 
male teachers  into  five  classes,  according  to  the 
salaries  allowed  them,  as  follows  :  Fifth  class 
one  thousand  francs  ($200)  per  annum  ;  fourth 
class,  twelve  hundred  francs  per  annum ;  third 
class,  fifteen  hundred  francs  per  annum  ;  second 
class,  eighteen  hundred  francs  per  annum ;  and 
first  class  two  thousand  francs  per  annum. 
When  living  quarters  are  not  found  for  them 
in  the  school  buildings,  then  school  teachers 
receive  a  rent  indemnity  of  two  hundred  francs, 
if  the  school  has  more  than  two  classes;  and  of 
four  hundred  francs,  if  it  has  more  than  four 


SALARIES  OF  TEACHERS. 


195 


classes.  If  the  school  contains  a  class  of 
superior  primary  education,  the  teacher  receives 
an  addition  of  two  hundred  francs  to  his  or  her 
salary,  and  the  law  also  fixes  a  scale  of  indem- 
nity for  rent  to  be  paid  to  the  heads  of  primary 
schools  and  their  assistants  in  certain  instances. 

There  is  a  drawback  of  five  per  cent  on  the 
first  year's  salary  of  every  teacher,  and  on  the 
increase  of  his  or  her  salary  during  the  first 
year,  which  is  taken  possession  of  by  the  State, 
and  in  return  for  which  they  become  entitled 
to  the  same  retiring  pension,  and  on  the  same 
terms  as  other  persons  employed  in  the  service 
of  the  Nation.  Appointments  are  made  by 
the  Prefect  from  a  list  prepared  by  the  Council- 
General  of  eligible  applicants.  Teachers  may, 
according  to  the  gravity  of  their  offence,  be 
suspended  partially  or  totally  without  salary,  or 
dismissed  by  the  Prefect  of  the  Department. 
In  urgent  cases  the  Maire  has  the  power  to 
suspend  a  primary  teacher  in  his  Commune 
provided  he  reports  the  case  to  the  Prefect 
within  two  days.  French  school  teachers  are 
forbidden  from  carrying  on  any  commercial  or 
industrial  business,  but  with  the  consent  of  the 
Counseil-General  they  may  hold  some  other 
local  office. 


196 


PARIS, 


The  cost  of  primary  education  in  1890  was 
$55,000,000,  of  which  sum  the  State's  share 
was  $40,000,000.  Moreover,  the  State  has 
during  the  last  ten  years  advanced  to  the  Com- 
munes and  Departments  as  much  as  $130,000, 
000  to  aid  them  in  building  schoolhouses,  be- 
side which  local  loans  were  authorised  for  the 
same  object  to  the  amount  of  $34,000,000.  In 
1899,  although  the  average  of  salaries  paid 
primary  teachers  was  a  little  less  than  in  1889, 
their  number  had  been  so  largely  increased  that 
it  took  $26,000,000  in  round  numbers,  to  pay 
them.  Public  instruction  having  become  gra- 
tuitous in  1881,  the  parents  of  children  paid 
nothing  toward  this  sum,  the  State  paying 
all  teachers  and  classes  in  public  schools  that 
average  fifty  pupils  to  each  teacher.  In  order 
to  bring  this  average  down  to  forty  pupils  the 
instructing  force  will  have  to  be  increased  by 
at  least  twenty  thousand  persons.  Taking  one 
thing  with  another,  increase  of  salaries,  addi- 
tional schoolhouses,  etc.,  it  may  be  safely 
affirmed  that  the  cost  of  public  instruction  in 
France  will,  in  a  few  years  (it  may  even  now), 
amount  to  a  total  of  $60,000,000  annually. 


CHAPTER  X. 


Napoleon's  "  Goose  with  the  Golden  Eggs" — The 
Ecole  Polytechnique — Its  centennial  celebrated  in 
1894 — Pleiades  of  remarkable  men  who  graduated 
from  its  classes — The  genesis  of  its  legendary  popu- 
larity— Anecdote  of  Napoleon — Kidiculous  au- 
thority of  the  Bourbons — How  the  students  won 
popularity — The  conduct  of  young  de  Freycinet — 
Students  in  the  role  of  conciliators  between  gov- 
ernment and  insurrection — Free  at  last  of  all  party 
quarrels — Poor  accommodations  for  the  Polytech- 
nicians — Dormitories  and  refectories — Their  daily 
rations  and  their  work — The  clock  of  Berzelius — 
Drinking  place  of  Mother  Prosper. 

Perhaps  enough  has  been  said  concerning 
educational  institutions  in  Paris,  still  I  am 
impelled  to  add  something  more  about  one 
other  establishment  which  is  of  world-wide 
fame  and  therefore  of  high  importance.  In 
May,  1894,  the  fetes  organised  to  celebrate  the 
centennial  of  the  Nicole  Polytechnique  were 
finished  in  a  blaze  of  lyric  and  dramatic  scenes, 
followed  by  a  ball  at  the  Trocadero,  and  our 
study  now  is  of  that  Polytechnique  which 


198 


PARIS. 


Napoleon  I  called  his  "  goose  with  tlie  golden 
eggs."  For  more  than  one  hundred  years  this 
school  at  Paris  has  played  an  active  part  in  all 
the  Revolutions,  and  the  pleiades  of  remarkable 
men  who  graduated  from  its  classes  as  civil 
or  military  engineers,  as  well  as  the  esprit  du 
corps,  which  unites  its  graduates,  have  won  it 
great  prestige.  As  it  is  the  door  to  a  public 
office  paradise,  all  Paris  mothers  dream  of  it  for 
their  sons.  I  remember  with  what  pride  the 
landlady  of  the  first  boarding-house  that  I  ever 
stayed  at  in  the  capital  told  me  that  her  son 
had  been  admitted  to  the  iCcole  Polytechnique 
a  week  before  my  arrival.  Then  she  boasted 
of  its  fame  and  excellence,  although  she  knew 
nothing  whatever  of  the  genesis  of  its  legendary 
popularity. 

In  France,  towards  the  middle  of  the  year 
1793,  everything  was  lacking,  and  the  famous 
decree  of  August  25,  in  spite  of  its  emphatic 
form,  was  singularly  eloquent.  "  Young  men," 
it  said,  "will  fight,  married  men  will  forge 
arms  and  transport  provisions,  women  will 
make  tents  and  clothes  and  serve  in  hospitals, 
children  will  tear  up  old  linen,  old  men  will  be 
earned  to  the  public  places  to  excite  the  cour- 
age of  warriors,  to  preach  hatred  of  kings  and 


THE  ECOLE  POLYTECHNIQUE.  199 


the  unity  of  tlie  Republic.  National  houses 
shall  be  converted  into  barracks,  public  places 
into  armouries,  the  soil  of  caves  shall  be  washed 
to  extricate  saltpetre.  Measures  shall  be  taken 
to  establish  without  delay  an  extraordinary 
fabrication  of  arms  of  all  kinds,  which  re- 
sponds to  the  glory  and  energy  of  the  French 
people." 

Numerous  savants,  among  whom  were  Four- 
croy,  Lakanal,  Monge  and  Berthollet,  hastened 
to  respond  to  the  appeal  of  the  committee  by 
manufacturing  arms  and  ammunition.  Then 
Carnot  "  organised  victory  "  and  the  Fatherland 
was  saved.  The  danger  over,  Prieur-Duvennais 
and  Carnot  had  no  trouble  in  making  it  under- 
stood that  there  was  necessity  of  establishing  a 
school  for  the  recruitment  of  engineers,  as  the 
organisation  of  the  diverse  establishments  then 
in  existence  left  much  to  be  desired.  The  spirit 
of  routine  was  such  in  one  school  that  Monge 
did  not  have  the  right  to  teach  the  application 
of  geometry  to  the  direction  of  a  slope,  while 
numerous  gaps  existed  in  the  recruitment  and 
functionment  of  the  services.  On  the  eleventh 
of  March,  1794,  the  Convention  named  a  com- 
mission charged  with  the  preparation  of  the 
establishment  of  a  central  school  of  public 


200 


PARIS. 


works.  Among  the  members  of  that  commis- 
sion were  Carnot,  Guyton-Morveau,  Monge  and 
Prieur-Duvernais,  all  four  from  the  Cote-cTOr 
Department.  On  the  twenty-eighth  of  Sep- 
tember, the  organic  law  of  the  school  was  voted, 
and  two  weeks  later  examinations  for  admission 
began  in  twenty-two  different  cities.  The 
programme  of  knowledge  required  was  rather 
vague ;  candidates  had  to  be  especially  recom- 
mended by  the  practice  of  Republican  virtues 
and  to  have  constantly  manifested  a  love  of 
Liberty  and  Equality  as  well  as  hatred  of 
tyrants.  The  Palais  Bourbon  was  arranged  to 
receive  the  three  hundred  and  ninety-six  schol- 
ars admitted,  one  of  whom,  benefiting  by  the 
dispensation  of  age,  was  twelve  and  a  half 
years  old.  Monge  opened  his  class  December 
10,  1794.  The  pupils  were  day  scholars  and 
received  a  salary  of  twelve  hundred  livres — 
in  assignats.  The  fathers,  sensible  and  good 
patriots  approved  by  the  Committee  of  Public 
Safety,  charged  themselves  with  lodging  and 
nourishing  the  pupils  in  consideration  of  nine 
hundred  livres.  A  few  months  later  the  organ- 
isation of  the  school  was  modified.  It  was  no 
longer  to  form  engineers  but  to  prepare  schol- 
ars for  the  different  schools  of  application, 


ITS  ADVERSARIES. 


201 


artillery,  engineering,  mines  and  roads  and 
bridges,  and  then  tlie  Institution  took  on  the 
name  of  ^ cole  Polytechnique. 

The  school  had  scarcely  been  founded  than 
it  found  adversaries.  Some  pupils  were  accused 
of  frequenting  Royalist  cafes ;  others  did  not 
listen  with  enough  respect  to  the  patriotic 
songs  heard  in  theatres,  and  Deputy  Baraillon 
demanded  that  the  "  axe  must  be  used  on  this 
manchineel-tree,  the  fruits  of  which,  seductive 
at  first,  will  soon  poison  the  Republic."  For  a 
time  a  general  purification  was  feared,  while 
constant  depreciation  of  assignats  rendered  the 
situation  of  students  deprived  of  fortune  very 
critical.  The  "  sensible  fathers  "  found  that 
it  would  be  impossible  to  nourish  them,  and 
although  wealthy  scholars  abandoned  their  pay 
to  the  profit  of  less  fortunate  comrades,  as 
meanwhile  Monge,  and  several  other  professors, 
renounced  their  salaries,  three  hundred  young 
men  were  obliged  to  go  back  to  their  families 
for  want  of  bread.  But  these  difficulties  did 
not  long  interrupt  the  classes,  and  several 
engineers  came  out  of  the  school  to  accompany 
Monge  and  Berthollet  on  the  expedition  to 
Egypt. 

Enthused  by  Bonaparte,  the  scholars  found 


202 


PARIS, 


a  way  of  raising  the  money  necessary  to  con- 
struct the  Poll/technique,  a  launch,  with  which 
they  rendered  homage  to  him  at  the  time  of  his 
threatened  descent  on  England.  These  good 
relations  between  the  school  and  the  First  Con- 
sul did  not  last  long,  however.  The  students, 
incorporated  in  the  National  Guard  mixed  in 
all  the  agitations  of  the  streets,  and  acquired 
Liberal  ideas.  After  having  protested  against 
the  Coup  dJ$tat  of  Brumaire,  they  refused  to 
sign  an  address  of  congratulation  apropos  of 
the  discovery  of  Moreau's  conspiracy.  Napo- 
leon was  furious,  and  decreed  the  military  orga- 
nization of  the  school;  and  at  the  time  of  the 
distribution  of  eagles  on  the  Champ  de  Mars, 
he  gave  to  young  Arago  the  flag  of  the 
Institution,  one  side  of  which  bore  the  famous 
device,  "  Pour  la  Patrie,  les  Sciences  et  la 
Gloire."  Furthermore  the  students,  instead 
of  receiving  pay  were  obliged  to  give  eight 
hundred  frances  annually.  Napoleon's  victor- 
ies brought  this  youth  of  France  to  the  Empire, 
but  after  the  conspiracy  of  General  Mallet  they 
resumed  their  opposition,  and  one  morning 
there  was  found  on  the  blackboards  these  two 
lines  written  with  chalk  : 


PERSECUTED  BY  THE  BOURBONS.  203 

"  Le  monde  est  un  atome  ou  rampe  avec  fierfce 
L'  insecte  usurpteur  qu'on  nomme  Majeste." 

Exasperated  to  a  high  degree,  Napoleon  was 
for  killing  his  "  goose  with  the  golden  eggs," 
and  the  project  of  a  decree  was  elaborated  by 
the  Council  of  State  to  re-organize  the  Institu- 
tion on  a  new  basis.  Then  France  was  invaded 
and  the  Polytechnicians  defended  the  barrier 
of  the  Trone  against  the  Prince  of  Wurteni- 
berg,  with  cries  of  "  Vive  I'Empereur !  "  Michel 
Charles,  Enfantin,  and  Carnot,  figured  among 
the  combatants,  and  on  his  return  from  the  Isle 
of  Elba,  Napoleon  was  acclaimed. 

The  Ecole  Polytechnique  could  not  pardon 
the  Bourbons  for  having  been  brought  back  by 
foreigners,  and,  despite  the  apparent  sympathy 
of  Charles  X,  with  the  frequent  visits  of  the 
Duke  of  Angouleme,  the  scholars  were  dissatis- 
fied with  the  Government  of  the  Restoration. 
Moreover  the  latter  made  its  authority  felt  in 
a  ridiculous  manner.  Under  pretext  of  hinder- 
ing the  school  from  preserving  the  maxims  of 
the  Revolution,  and  of  "  transmitting  to  pro- 
motions a  too  faithful  tradition  of  Republican- 
ism and  impiety,"  it  forced  students  to  assist 
at  mass  and  vespers,  "  provided  with  the  book 
of   services    designated   under   the    title  of 


204  PARIS. 

i  Eucologe.'  "  General  Pailhon,  under  gover- 
nor of  the  school,  issued  an  order  forbidding 
any  model  of  drawing  or  of  sculpture  to  be 
entirely  nude,  and  the  Minister  of  the  Interior 
effaced  from  the  list  of  admissions  all  names 
which  offended  him. 

In  1820  Cavaignac  was  struck  off  as  the  son 
of  a  Conventionnel ;  but  he  was  reinstated  on 
the  intervention  of  Monsieur  de  Frayssinous. 
Ten  years  later,  Charras  was  sent  away  for 
having  sung  the  u  Marseillaise  "  at  the  annual 
banquet  of  1830.  He  was  the  fellow  who 
went  to  seek  his  comrades  at  the  first  firing  in 
the  Revolution  of  July,  and  they  all  went  out, 
en  masse,  but  most  of  them  were  stopped  by 
their  parents  or  their  Paris  guardians.  How- 
ever about  sixty  of  them  spread  through  the 
different  quarters,  and  put  themselves  at  the 
head  of  the  Insurrection.  Bosquet  took  pos- 
session of  the  Louvre,  but  Vaneau  was  killed 
in  front  of  the  barracks  of  Babylone. 

The  battle  finished,  the  school  assured  order 
everywhere.  In  a  few  hours  it  had  won  an 
extraordinary  popularity.  On  all  sides  fetes 
and  banquets  were  organised  in  its  honour.  It 
was  acclaimed  in  the  theatres.  Poets  sang  its 
praises.    Rheims  sent  it  champagne,  and  the 


DISTURBANCES  AT  THE  SCHOOL.  205 


United  States  its  congratulations.  The  people 
vowed  it  a  respect  and  affection  which  should 
never  be  changed,  and  during  twenty  years  it  was 
counted  on  for  the  defense  of  liberty.  Louis 
Philippe  himself  could  not  show  it  enough 
recognition.  At  the  request  of  the  young  Duke 
of  Orleans,  who  followed  the  course  as  a  day- 
scholar,  the  Citizen  King  named  several  scholars 
lieutenants,  by  according  analogous  advance- 
ment to  those  who  were  destined  to  civil  careers. 
He  also  invited  them  to  choose  twelve  of  their 
number  for  the  Cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honour. 
The  scholars  declared  that  they  had  not  merited 
these  exceptional  recompenses,  and  the  ordi- 
nance was  repealed.  The  father  of  Vaneau, 
whom  the  school  had  recommended  to  the  care 
of  the  Government,  refused  even  the  pension 
offered  him. 

Immediately  after  the  Revolution  of  July, 
Arago  was  made  provisional  commander  of  the 
Polytechnique.  Religious  exercises  were  sup- 
pressed, the  regular  holidays  of  Wednesdays 
and  Sundays  were  prolonged  until  midnight, 
and  for  a  short  while  it  was  even  a  question  of 
re-establishing  the  externat.  The  scholars 
opposed  this,  considering  the  regime  incompati- 
ble to  the  calm  required  for  their  studies. 


206 


PARIS. 


The  nomination  of  General  Bertrand,  former 
companion  of  Napoleon  at  Saint  Helena,  as 
commander  of  the  school,  completely  won  over 
the  youth  of  the  Polytechnique,  who  went  to 
the  Palais  Royal  the  day  after  the  trial  of  the 
Ministers  to  assure  the  King  of  their  good  feel- 
ings. But  politics  then  occupied  many  minds. 
During  recreations,  the  older  boys  repeated  to 
newcomers  the  exploits  of  their  comrades  with 
as  much  enthusiasm  as  were  formerly  read  the 
bulletins  of  the  Grand  Army.  Intoxicated  by 
its  popularity,  the  school  hastened  to  aid  the 
National  Guard  in  repressing  street  movements, 
accentuated  a  kind  of  role  of  arbitrator  between 
the  people  and  the  Government  which  had  been 
created  for  it  by  events,  was  at  all  the  fetes 
and  all  manifestations,  never  ceased  to  sustain 
the  part  of  order,  and  it  soon  became  a  real 
power  in  the  State.  Sixty-three  scholars,  des- 
pite formal  prohibition,  followed  the  funeral  of 
General  Lamarque.  Six  were  arrested  and 
one  of  them  passed  through  the  Assizes,  where 
he  was  acquitted. 

The  "  conspiration  des  poudres,"  imagined 
in  1833  by  an  awkward  minister,  had  serious 
consequences.  Four  scholars,  found  by  the 
police  in  a  house  suspected  of  secretly  making 


INSULTING  THE  KING. 


207 


ammunition,  were  pursued  with  Raspail,  but 
the  process  terminated  by  a  check  that  was 
pitiable  for  the  Government.  The  monarchy 
of  July  had  henceforth  an  irreconcilable  enemy 
in  the  Nicole  Poly  technique.  After  having 
struck  the  word  "  Royal "  from  the  inscription 
placed  above  the  entrance  of  the  school,  the" 
scholars  decided  to  no  longer  salute  the  king. 
One  of  them,  being  near  the  gates  of  the  Louvre 
when  Louis  Philippe  left  in  a  carriage,  carried 
his  hand  to  his  hat  to  keep  it  ostensibly  on  his 
head.  The  aide-de-camp  who  galloped  before 
the  royal  carriage  struck  the  hat  off  with  his 
sabre,  whereupon  the  student  drew  his  sword 
and  sprang  at  the  over-zealous  courtier.  For 
this  he  was  arrested  and  taken  back  to  the 
school,  but  next  day  two  of  his  comrades  de- 
manded reparation  from  the  insulter,  who 
refused  to  fight  under  pretext  that  the  scholar 
was  not  an  officer.  Thereupon  one  of  the 
young  men  struck  the  fellow,  and,  to  avoid, 
further  scandal,  the  king  got  rid  of  his  aide-de- 
camp. 

On  the  twenty-fifth  of  February,  1848,  the 
students,  hearing  of  the  events  of  the  day  be- 
fore, gathered  together  in  the  Amphitheatre. 
Young  de  Freycinet  first  spoke,  and  the  Gen- 


208 


PARIS. 


eral  himself  applauded  the  future  organise-r  of 
the  National  Defense,  when  he  declared  that 
the  duty  of  the  school  was  to  join  the  National 
Guard  and  throw  itself  between  the  combatants 
to  stop  the  spilling  of  blood.  During  this  time 
the  crowd  cheered,  the  students  threatened  to 
force  the  gates  if  they  did  not  come  out,  which 
they  did  in  a  few  moments,  and  after  joining 
the  authorities  united  at  the  Pantheon,  they 
divided  into  groups  which  went  to  the  different 
Arrondissements,  where  the  battalions  of  the 
National  Guard  immediately  put  themselves 
under  their  orders.  At  the  sight  of  their  uni- 
forms the  troops  fell  back  and  the  insurgents 
lowered  arms.  Monsieur  Fargue,  afterward 
Inspector  General  of  roads  and  bridges,  arrived 
at  the  Tuileries  in  time  to  preserve  it  from  being 
pillaged.  Monsieur  de  Freycinet  hastened  with 
several  comrades  to  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  where 
he  guaranteed  tranquillity  to  the  deliberations 
of  the  Provisional  Government.  He  was  by 
the  side  of  Lamartine  when  the  latter  pro- 
nounced the  celebrated  phrase :  "  I  will  repel 
until  death  this  flag  of  blood,  and  you  should 
repudiate  it  more  than  I ;  for  the  red  flag  that 
you  bring  us  has  only  made  the  tour  of  the 
Champ  de  Mars,  dragged  in  the  blood  of  the 


THE  FLAG  OF  HONOUR.  209 


people,  in  1791  and  1793,  while  the  tricolored 
flag  has  made  the  tour  of  the  world  with  the  name, 
the  glory,  and  the  liberty  of  the  Fatherland." 
Some  hours  later,  it  was  sufficient  for  him  to 
appear  on  a  barricade  to  stop  the  fire  of  insur- 
gents who  were  opposing  the  exit  of  a  battalion 
by  the  Menilmontant  gate.  Twenty  students 
put  themselves  at  the  disposal  of  the  Govern- 
ment, which  employed  them  as  aides-de-camp, 
and  after  having  fulfilled  the  most  delicate 
missions  for  several  weeks,  they  returned  quietly 
to  follow  their  classes. 

In  the  days  of  June  the  school  fulfilled  the 
same  rdle  of  conciliator  between  the  Govern- 
ment and  the  Insurrection.  The  epopee  was 
finished.  Occupied  in  a  military  way  during 
that  memorable  night  the  school  could  do 
nothing  with  the  Coup  cVEtat.  It  calmly  hated 
the  Empire,  and,  at  the  time  of  the  review  of 
the  Crimean  troops  in  1855,  the  scholars  defiled 
past  Napoleon  III  without  a  single  cry.  Later 
on  the  Prince  Imperial  visited  the  school  with 
his  preceptor,  General  Froissard,  and  was  wel- 
comed with  glacial  silence.  These  manifesta- 
tions were  without  consequence  and  were  the 
last  at  the  iScole  Polytechnique. 

On  the  declaration  of  war  against  Prussia 


210 


PARIS. 


a  party  of  students  were  sent  to  Metz,  others 
were  incorporated  in  the  army  of  Chalons,  and 
some  remained  in  Paris.  One  of  these,  named 
Pistor,  was  decorated  with  the  cross  for  heroic 
conduct  at  Froechviller.  In  the  month  of  Jan- 
uary, 1871,  the  school  opened  at  Bordeaux;  it 
returned  to  Paris  three  days  before  the  Insur- 
rection, declared  for  the  Government  of  Ver- 
sailles, and  went  to  install  itself  at  Tours. 
Since  then  the  school  has  been  free  of  all  the 
quarrels  of  parties  and  it  took  no  part  whatever 
in  the  agitations  of  the  Boulangist  period. 

Since  November  11,  1805,  the  school  has 
occupied  the  site  of  the  former  Colleges  of 
Navarre,  of  Boncourt  and  of  Tournay,  at  the 
top  of  the  hill  of  Sainte  Genevieve,  down  by 
the  Pantheon.  Arranged  originally  to  lodge 
one  hundred  students,  it  now  receives  more 
than  double  that  number,  and  although  annexes 
have  been  built  they  are  so  narrow  that  each 
scholar  has  less  than  twelve  cubic  metres  of  air 
in  which  to  live.  A  minimum  of  seventeen 
metres  per  man  is  required  by  the  war  plans 
for  a  soldiers'  barracks.  It  is  true  that  that 
quarter  of  Paris  is  healthful,  and  that  young 
men,  usually  robust,  appear  to  accommodate 
themselves  well  enough  to  their  hygienic  con- 


POOR  HYGIENIC  CONDITIONS.  211 


ditions,  but  the  state  of  exhaustion  found 
among  them  after  two  years  of  sojourn  at  the 
Poly  technique  seems  to  be  due  as  much  to  the 
lack  of  food  and  air  as  to  the  excess  of  work. 
Admittance  to  the  school  is  only  by  competi- 
tion, and  for  this  purpose  public  examinations 
take  place  every  year.  It  is  necessary  to  be 
French  born,  a  Bachelor  of  Sciences  or  Letters, 
and  more  than  sixteen  and  less  than  twenty 
years  of  age,  on  the  first  of  January  of  the 
current  year.  The  price  of  board  is  one  thou- 
sand francs  ($200)  a  year,  and  of  the  outfit 
seven  hundred  francs.  Received  after  the 
examination  for  admission,  his  board  paid  and 
the  physician  passed,  the  young  man  enters 
the  school  so  ardently  longed  for.  The  dura- 
tion of  studies  is  two  years  and  pupils  are 
divided  into  two  divisions,  the  first  compris- 
ing those  who  passed  the  examinations  the  first 
year,  and  the  second,  the  newcomers.  The 
Polytechnician  is  submitted  to  the  military  re- 
gime and  while  at  the  school  is  considered  as 
under  the  flag. 

The  aspect  of  the  dormitories,  or  casern- 
ments,  is  especially  lamentable,  the  general 
commanding  the  school  seeming  to  be  ashamed 
of  them  and  very  few  strangers  are  ever  per- 


212 


PARIS. 


mitted  to  visit  them.  Iron  beds  are  placed 
so  closely  together  that  sixteen  or  eighteen  are 
in  a  low  hall,  lighted  on  a  single  side  only  and 
which  should  contain  not  more  than  half  that 
number,  if  so  many.  Above  each  bed  there  is 
a  board  to  support  the  hatbox ;  there  is  a  nail 
on  which  to  hang  the  sword  and  belt ;  there  is 
also  a  bit  of  a  carpet  as  large  as  a  pocket  hand- 
kerchief, a  small  locker  called  a  "  coffin  "  which 
serves  as  wardrobe,  a  washstand,  a  basin  and 
a  pitcher  of  water.  Such  is  the  furniture  of  a 
scholar  of  the  "  Grand  School."  Not  the  sign 
of  a  curtain  at  the  window,  not  a  chair  to  put 
their  clothes  on,  nor  on  which  to  throw  a  towel. 
French  Polytechnicians  sleep  in  these  over- 
crowded, illy- ventilated  rooms,  until  the  next 
to  the  last  beat  of  the  morning  drum  which 
calls  them  to  work;  and  when  one  of  them 
descends  too  late  and  finds  the  grating  closed 
he  is  called  a  "  rat."  The  study  rooms,  which 
occupy  the  groundfloor  and  the  first  floor,  are 
not  clean  or  comfortable  and  their  furniture  is 
of  extreme  simplicity.  Along  either  side  of 
the  wall  a  table,  divided  into  four  or  five 
drawers  closed  with  a  key,  is  surmounted  by  a 
small  etaglre  which  holds  a  dozen  volumes. 
In  a  corner  a  little  fountain,  or  "  corio,"  in 


COLD  REFECTORIES. 


213 


another  a  table  wherein  everything  necessary  to 
make  punch  is  hidden.  The  seats  are  heavy 
stools,  of  a  solidity  equal  to  all  trials.  The 
two  angles  at  the  right  and  left  of  the  glass 
door,  where  nothing  can  be  seen  from  outside, 
constitutes  the  "  desert."  In  this  a  Poly  tech- 
nician passes  half  the  day  smoking,  reading 
papers,  brewing  punch,  playing  whist,  and 
studying.  The  surveillance  is  rather  paternal 
than  otherwise  and  authority  does  not  interfere 
except  in  case  of  serious  trouble. 

At  six  o'clock  in  the  winter,  at  five  o'clock 
in  the  summer,  drums  beat  the  reveille;  the  boys 
wait  until  the  third  call  is  heard,  then  there  is 
a  rush  for  the  stairways,  and  the  adjutants  give 
the  last  call  in  the  study  halls.  At  eight  o'clock 
a  breakfast  of  coffee,  cheese  or  radishes  is 
served ;  dinner  is  not  eaten  until  two  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon. 

The  refectories  are  down  in  the  basements 
and  run  the  length  of  the  corridor.  They  are 
damp  and  cold,  and  receive  light  from  the 
court-yard  of  the  laboratories.  Large  tables 
with  black  marble  tops,  wooden  benches,  small 
cupboards  where  dishes  are  kept,  and  pigeon 
holes  for  napkins,  compose  all  the  furnishing. 
There  are  ten  places  to  each  table.    As  a  drink 


214 


PARIS. 


half  a  pint  of  wine  at  each  repast;  but  for 
some  time  they  have  been  distributing  a  ration 
of  wine  at  half-past  eleven.  Certain  dishes 
return  periodically  each  week,  and  these  bear 
the  name  of  the  professor  who  has  his  class 
that  day;  thus,  the  name  of  Zeller,  professor 
of  History,  has  remained  synonymous  with 
spinach.  On  Sunday  morning  are  served  "  the 
cutlets  of  Madame  Laplace,"  paid  for  with  the 
income  of  a  sum  of  money,  left  by  the  widow  of 
the  illustrious  astronomer  for  that  purpose. 

Each  morning  at  nine  o'clock  the  students 
gathered  in  the  amphitheatre,  watch  a  gentle- 
man in  dress  coat  writing  formulas  on  the 
blackboard  for  an  hour  and  a  half,  and  the 
lesson  is  given  amidst  perfect  silence.  There 
is  a  "  Captain  of  Service,"  seated  in  his  box, 
who  has  a  plan  of  the  hall ;  he  keeps  his  eyes 
on  the  scholars  and  his  mission  is  to  punish 
those  who  sleep.  This  manner  of  understand- 
ing the  liberty  of  work  has  never  roused  pro- 
testations. From  time  to  time  the  professor 
announces  that  he  will  question  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  next  course  ;  then  most  of  the  stu- 
dents contract  a  kind  of  insurance,  by  making 
an  assessment  of  two  cents  to  form  a  u  kitty  " 
of  consolation  which  will  indemnify  the  stu- 


AN"  AMUSING  LEGEND.  215 


dent  designated  by  fate  to  go  on  the  platform 
in  presence  of  all  the  others.  All  scholars  do 
not  work  equally.  In  general  the  five  or  six 
first  ones,  endowed  with  an  exceptional  organi- 
sation, work  all  the  less  because  it  is  bon  ton  to 
preserve  their  rank. 

The  recreation  court  is  large  and  airy.  Bil- 
liard rooms,  barber  shop,  fencing  hall,  and  dif- 
ferent other  dependencies,  occupy  three  of  its 
sides,  the  fourth  being  closed  by  the  Pavillion 
des  Aleves.  This  building,  constructed  in  1738, 
is  all  that  remains  of  the  College  of  Navarre, 
the  only  one  of  the  period  it  appears,  where 
students  had  anything  to  do  but  promenade. 
It  is  three  stories  high  surmounted  by  a  man- 
sard roof,  the  garrets  of  which  serve  as  police 
hall ;  its  black  walls,  with  severe  but  regular 
lines,  give  it  a  certain  seal,  and  the  clock  that 
decorates  it  has  inspired  poetic  minds  with  this 
legend : 

"  A  Swedish  chemist  named  Berzelius,  who 
was  in  Paris  about  1819,  came  to  make  some 
experiments  in  Physics  and  Chemistry  before 
the  scholars  of  the  Polytechnic  School.  To  show 
the  influence  of  air  on  the  respiration  of  animals, 
he  placed  a  sparrow  under  the  bell  of  the  pneu- 
matic machine  and  made  a  vacuum.    At  the 


216 


PARIS. 


moment  when  the  bird  was  about  to  die,  a  cry 
of,  '  Mercy,  mercy  ! '  rose  from  all  sides  of  the 
amphitheatre.  Berzelius  had  mercy  on  the  bird, 
which  flew  out  of  the  hall ;  then  for  some  while 
afterward  a  strange  thing  happened.  Every 
Wednesday  and  Sunday  at  the  moment  when 
the  large  hand  of  the  clock,  leaving  the  fifty- 
ninth  minute  of  nine  o'clock,  was  to  mark  the 
fatal  return  to  school  an  obstacle  seemed  to  stop 
it  and  it  was  noticed  that  this  last  moment  was 
of  unreasonable  length.  When  search  was 
made,  it  was  found  that  this  delay  was  caused 
by  a  sparrow  which,  at  the  precise  minute, 
posed  itself  on  the  large  hand,  and  that  was 
Berzelius'  sparrow.  The  bird  was  caught  and 
killed,  the  school  had  a  superb  funeral ;  it  was 
interred  in  a  corner  of  the  courtyard,  and  the 
clock  that  day  received  the  name  of  Berzelius. " 

The  school  is  commanded  by  a  general,  as- 
sisted by  a  colonel,  a  major  and  six  captains 
bearing  the  title  of  inspectors  of  studies.  The 
relations  of  these  officers  and  the  adjutants  with 
the  scholars  are  rather  delicate ;  but  the  under- 
standing is  based  on  a  reciprocal  esteem,  and, 
in  general,  the  authorities  close  their  eyes  to 
tricks  which  do  not  provoke  a  too  manifest  dis- 
order.   Just  opposite  the  school,  in  the  Rue  de 


LA  MERE  PROSPER. 


217 


la  Montagne  Sainte  Genevieve,  "la  mfere  Pros- 
per" keeps  a  little  drinking  place.  Mother 
Prosper  is  a  woman  of  thirty-five  years,  engag- 
ing, kind  and  virtuous,  although  she  has  to  listen 
to  some  curious  stories.  She  looks  to  be  fifty, 
but  she  must  always  be  just  thirty-five  years; 
when  the  titular  of  the  cabaret  passes  that  age  she 
cedes  her  place  to  another  woman.  No  sprees 
are  possible  at  la  mere  Prosper's  ;  the  liqueurs 
are  very  mild,  and  no  boy  is  allowed  to  ever 
buy  more  than  four  cents'  worth  of  tobacco  at 
a  single  time.  In  the  summer  when  the  water 
is  warm,  a  u  tapin  "  buys  ice  for  the  students. 
One  tapin  was  quite  an  ice  connoisseur,  and 
called  himself  Beauvisage.  When  he  paid  out 
too  much  money  for  some  the  fellows  com- 
plained. "  What,  Beau  visage,  ten  sous  for  ice 
to-day  ?  "  "  Yes,  you  see,  my  officer  "  (Beauvis- 
age  called  them  thus,  and  that  flattered  them), 
"  this  ice  is  colder  than  that  you  had  yesterday. 
It  is  Norwegian  ice,  sir."  In  summer  Poly  tech- 
nicians often  go  to  the  shooting  ground  at  Vin- 
cennes,  and  when  they  proudly  march  with 
guns  on  shoulders  through  the  streets  of  Paris, 
la  mere  Prosper — never  the  same — accompanies 
them  with  her  little  sutler's  wagon ;  and  then 
there  are  fine  lunches  on  the  grass  ;  a  litre  of 
wine  at  fifteen  sous,  fried  sausages,  cookies,  etc. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


The  government  of  France — Meeting  place  of  the 
Deputies — Once  a  mansion  of  princely  pleasures — 
Two  fronts  to  the  Palais  Bourbon — Hall  of  Lost 
Footsteps,  and  that  of  Four  Columns — The  reading 
room  and  the  library — The  Salle  des  Seances  an 
imposing  chamber — Five  hundred  and  fifty-eight 
Deputies — Eight  or  nine  political  parties  in  the 
house — How  members  must  address  the  assembly — 
Take  their  turn,  as  registered,  in  speaking — The 
Senate  sits  in  the  Palace  of  the  Luxembourg — Two 
hundred  and  ninety-seven  members — A  quiet  body 
— The  presiding  officers  in  both  houses — How  they 
are  chosen — Anecdotes  of  different  speakers — The 
standing  committee — Official  homes  of  the  three 
Presidents — The  Cabinet  officers. 

It  would  be  pleasant  to  describe  in  detail 
the  political  organisation  of  France,  to  expose 
successively  the  formation  and  composition  of 
the  Council  of  Ministers,  its  interior  organism 
and  its  general  rdle,  its  relation  with  the  Presi- 
dent of  the  Republic  as  well  as  its  relations  to  the 
Chambers  of  Parliament,  and  also  its  authority 
in  the  administration  of  Government ;  how  the 


THE  CHAMBER  OF  DEPUTIES. 


21? 


two  houses  put  in  action  political  responsibility 
of  each  ministry,  and  how  the  whole  organisa- 
tion is  based  on  the  English  system  of  govern- 
ment, yet  differing  radically  from  it,  but  all  that 
is  impossible  in  this  work.  It  may  be  stated, 
however,  that  while  there  is  a  President  there 
is  no  Vice-President,  that  while  his  Cabinet 
consists  of  eleven  ministers,  they  are  not  re- 
sponsible to  him  but  to  Parliament  alone.  This 
Parliament,  or  Congress  is  made  up  of  two 
assemblies,  a  Senate  and  a  Chamber  of  Depu- 
ties. The  latter  body  is  the  more  numerous  if 
not  the  most  important.  The  house  wherein 
the  Deputies  meet  was  originally  a  palace ;  in- 
deed it  is  generally  called  the  Palais  Bourbon,  be- 
cause Louis  XIV  built  it  for  his  natural  daugh- 
ter, the  Princess  de  Bourbon,  from  whose  heirs 
the  State  subsequently  purchased  it.  But  it 
has  gone  through  many  changes  and  has  been 
adapted  to  many  purposes  since  it  was  the 
scene  of  royal  enjoyment  and  princely  pleasures. 
It  has  no  longer  a  state  bedroom  with  golden 
tapestries  on  the  walls,  nor  does  the  famous 
boudoir,  with  its  inlaid  floor,  which  echoed  to  the 
orgies  of  so  many  gallant  Cond^s  and  Bourbons, 
now  exist.  Gone,  too,  is  the  billiard  hall  where 
marble  nymphs,  indecently  posing  and  crowned 


220 


PARIS. 


with  wild  flowers,  served  as  cue-racks  to  the 
palace  courtiers.  But  the  celebrated  salle  a 
manger  with  painted  arcades,  reflecting  from  a 
hundred  mirrors  its  fairy  splendours,  is  still  to 
be  seen  by  those  who  happen  to  be  invited  in- 
side the  mansion  by  its  official  occupants. 

There  are  two  fronts  to  the  Palais  Bourbon, 
and  they  are  entirely  different.  Tourists  see 
very  little  of  the  South  side  of  the  building. 
On  that  front  is  a  triumphal  portico  gate, 
flanked  by  a  double  colonnade.  Then  comes  a 
large  court-yard,  where  the  carriages  of  Cabinet 
ministers  wait  their  owners,  and  this  yard  is 
followed  by  a  smaller  one,  which  has  a  stout 
bronze  door  to  it  that  has  not  been  opened  since 
King  Louis  Philippe  passed  that  way  into  the 
Chamber.  He  was  the  only  monarch  who  ever 
entered  by  that  door,  just  as  Napoleon  I  was 
the  only  one  who  ever  passed  into  the  Palace 
by  the  North  front  portico.  This  riverside  has 
an  iron  fence  with  gilded  gates  in  its  front,  also 
a  magnificent  flight  of  steps,  at  the  bottom  of 
which,  seated  on  pedestals,  are  colossal  statues 
of  Grecian  divinities,  that  are  not  at  all  of  im- 
mortal appearance,  but  are  decidedly  weather 
beaten. 

We  enter  the  building  on  the  northern  side, 


WITHIN  THE  BUILDING.  221 


through  a  small  court-yard  and  thence  into  an 
ante-chamber,  which  is  reserved  for  a  patient 
public,  and  where  we  send  our  names  in  to 
some  member.  Doorkeepers  in  livery  pass  on 
our  cards,  and  presently  our  friendly  Deputy 
comes  and  conducts  us  to  the  reception  room. 
It  is  known  as  the  Salle  de  Pas  Perdus  (hall 
of  lost  footsteps),  and  it  is  adorned  with  Cor- 
inthian columns,  marble  statues,  and  bronze 
groups,  the  ceiling  being  finely  painted.  Be- 
yond this  lobby  is  the  Salle  des  Quatre  Col- 
onnes,  at  the  other  end  of  which  are  the  offices 
of  the  sergeants-at-arms,  committee  rooms,  etc. 
Very  few  outsiders  ever  gain  admittance  to 
that  part  of  the  palace.  The  Hall  of  the  Four 
Columns  is  furnished  with  a  few  velvet-cov- 
ered benches  and  there  are  some  marble  statues. 
Through  a  passageway  full  of  statuary,  we  go 
to  the  reading  room,  which  is  a  well-lighted 
hall  with  a  glass  roof,  and  decorated  with  fine: 
paintings.  It  is  the  only  room  in  the  building, 
except  the  Chamber  itself,  where  smoking  is 
not  permitted.  At  one  side,  facing  an  enor- 
mous chimney  shelf,  is  a  colossal  statue  of 
Henri  IV,  surmounted  by  flags  captured  at 
Marengo,  Austerlitz  and  Jena.  Successive 
governors  of  the  Hotel  des  Invalides  have  tried 


222 


PARIS, 


in  vain  to  get  hold  of  these  battle  trophies,  and, 
more  wonderful  still,  all  the  invaders  that  have 
occupied  France  have  left  them  undisturbed. 
Nearby  is  the  buvette  or  bar.  Here  beer, 
wines,  sandwiches  and  cold  meat  or  fowl  can 
be  obtained  from  one  of  the  questors ;  this  is 
his  perquisite.  The  library  is  in  the  same 
eastern  wing ;  it  has  about  one  hundred  and 
thirty  thousand  volumes  on  its  shelves,  includ- 
ing many  documents  from  Washington.  The 
original  manuscript  report  of  the  trial  of  Jeanne 
d'Arc  is  among  the  most  valued  contents  of 
this  library.  At  the  end  of  the  corridor  is  a 
small  room  termed  le  petit  local,  wherein  Dep- 
uties are  locked  up  whenever  they  become  too 
refractory. 

The  Salle  des  Seances,  or  chamber  proper,  is 
a  handsome  and  imposing  room,  although  not 
half  as  large  as  our  House  of  Representatives, 
nor  is  it  so  well  ventilated.  Viewed  from  the 
galleries,  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  presents  an 
interesting  sight.  The  Deputies'  desks  are 
arranged  in  a  semi-circular  way  on  the  floor 
of  the  house,  and,  as  there  are  five  hundred 
and  fifty-eight  members,  everybody  is  quite 
crowded.  The  hall  is  surrounded  with  twenty 
columns  of  white  marble,  of  the  Ionic  order, 


WHERE  LAWS  ARE  MADE. 


223 


having  capitals  of  bronze  gilt.  There  are  two 
galleries  running  around  two-thirds  of  the 
room.  The  first  is  reserved  for  the  diplomatic 
corps,  ex-Senators  and  Deputies,  and  the  invited 
guests  of  the  President  of  the  Chamber;  the 
second  is  for  the  public,  who  can  only  be  ad- 
mitted by  members,  and  for  representatives  of 
the  Press.  The  President  is  liberal  enough 
with  his  tickets,  but  members  have  to  be  more 
careful.  Indeed,  it  is  not  permitted  them  to 
issue  tickets  at  will ;  they  must  do  so  in  alpha- 
betical order. 

The  five  hundred  and  fifty-eight  members  are 
divided  into  several  political  divisions,  some 
eight  or  nine  of  them,  in  fact,  but  only  six  are, 
so  to  speak,  officially  recognised.  These  parties 
are  named  according  to  the  position  in  which 
they  sit  in  front  of  the  President  of  the  Cham- 
ber. The  party  which  sits  on  the  Speaker's 
extreme  left  is  called  the  "  Extreme  Gauche,77 
next  to  them  is  the  party  "  Gauche,'7  or  Left 
Radicals ;  next,  almost  in  front  of  the  Speaker, 
is  the  "  Centre  Gauche,77  or  Union  Democrat- 
ique ;  next,  is  the  "Centre,77  or  Moderate 
Republicans,  and  finally,  on  his  extreme  right, 
are  the  "  Droites 77  or  Royalists  and  Bonapart- 
ists  (some  of  them  are  Re-actionaries)  combined. 


224 


PARIS. 


The  members  do  not  address  the  Chamber  from 
their  places  in  the  house.  They  must  climb 
up  into  a  sort  of  pulpit  called  a  tribune,  which 
stands  directly  below  and  in  front  of  the  Pres- 
ident's desk.  The  speaker  turns  his  back  on 
the  presiding  officer  and  goes  on  as  long  as  he 
pleases ;  but  French  Deputies  are  seldom  long- 
winded  orators.  It  is  known  beforehand  what 
the  ordre  de  jour  (question  of  the  day)  will  be, 
and  if  members  wish  to  talk  on  that  subject 
they  must  write  down  their  names  in  a  book 
kept  for  the  purpose.  They  take  their  turns 
in  speaking  as  their  names  are  registered,  al- 
though any  member  thus  listed  may  yield  his 
turn  to  whoever  he  pleases. 

Deputies  of  France  may  dress  as  they  like, 
but  custom  compels  the  President  of  the  Cham- 
ber to  wear  a  swallow-tailed  coat,  with  white 
cravat.  It  looks  curious  to  Americans,  a  gentle- 
man in  evening  dress  during  the  day  time,  but 
such  is  the  rule  in  France.  On  the  days  when 
the  Chamber  meets  a  platoon  of  infantry  lines 
the  corridor  that  communicates  between  the 
President's  mansion  and  the  legislative  hall. 
As  soon  as  he  leaves  his  house  two  commis- 
sioned officers  walk  on  each  side  of  him,  drums 
beat,  the  soldiers  present   arms,  all  persons 


HONOURS  THE  SPEAKER.  225 


present  uncover,  and,  at  the  threshold  of  the 
Chamber,  the  military  officers  salute  with  drawn 
swords  as  the  President  passes  in  to  his  plat- 
form. No  such  courtesy  is  shown  the  Vice- 
Presidents.  The  Chamber  begins  business  at 
two- thirty  or  at  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
usually  rises  at  six,  seldom  sits  beyond  seven 
o'clock  and  a  night  session  is  a  thing  of  rare 
occurrence. 

The  Senators  of  France  are  chosen  by  an 
electoral  college  composed  for  each  Department 
of  the  Deputies,  the  Councillors  General,  the 
Councillors  of  the  Arrondissement  and  certain 
delegates  named  by  the  Municipal  Councillors 
of  the  Commune,  all  of  that  Department. 
Life  Senators  are  no  longer  chosen,  they  having 
been  done  away  with  by  a  law  passed  in  1884, 
but  a  few  such  are  still  living.  In  all  there 
are  two  hundred  and  ninety-seven  Senators,  and 
they  are  paid  each  $1,800  per  annum,  the  same 
as  the  Deputies.  The  Senate  sits  in  that  beauti- 
ful Palace  of  the  Luxembourg,  which  Marie  de 
Medicis,  when  she  was  Regent,  and  in  all  the 
eclat  of  her  power,  built  in  1612.  The  Revo- 
lution made  national  property  of  the  place,  and 
the  Terror  changed  it  into  a  prison  den.  Beau- 
harnais  was  incarcerated  there  with  his  wife,  she 


226 


PARIS, 


who  became  the  Empress  J osephine,  and  Camille 
Desmoulins  only  came  out  of  it  to  go  to  the 
guillotine.  The  Directory  installed  itself  in 
the  Luxembourg  and  gave  a  triumphal  fete  to 
Bonaparte,  conqueror  of  Italy,  in  the  Court  of 
Honour.  Consuls  succeeded  Directors,  these  in 
turn  made  way  for  the  " little  corporal"  who 
wanted  the  palace  for  himself  alone,  and  there 
he  surrounded  himself  with  a  military  court 
which  obeyed  his  every  wish.  With  the  Senate 
of  the  First  Empire,  the  Luxembourg  became  a 
parliamentary  palace,  and  it  remained  so  until 
the  fourth  of  September,  1870,  when  war  trans- 
formed the  house  into  an  ambulance  hall. 
After  the  burning  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville  the 
Municipal  Councillors  established  themselves 
in  it  until  October  15,  1879.  The  twenty- 
seventh  of  November  of  the  same  year  the 
Republican  Senate  held  its  first  session  there. 

The  Senators  and  the  public  enter  the  Luxem- 
bourg Palace  by  a  monumental  gate  opening  on 
the  Rue  de  Touron.  The  former  mount  a  marble 
stairway  which  leads  to  the  "  Hall  of  the  Fetes," 
while  journalists,  office-seekers,  and  the  public 
generally,  cross  a  court,  escape  losing  themselves 
in  numerous  small  halls  that  lead  to  committee 
rooms  and  to  the  galleries,  and  reach  a  circular 


A  GEEAT  POLITICAL  SALON  227 


corridor  which  precedes  tlie  Session  Chamber, 
where  carpets  deaden  the  sounds  of  footsteps 
and  where  upholstered  partitions  muffle  the 
noise  of  members.  All  Senators  have  large 
movable  arm-chairs,  well  upholstered ;  the  ven- 
tilation is  perfect,  the  acoustic  arrangements 
good,  the  decorations  rich,  and  the  galleries 
large  and  elegant.  It  is  a  peaceful  center, 
where  habits  of  courtesy  prevail  and  where 
there  is  little  noise.  The  Luxembourg  forms 
quite  a  contrast  with  the  Palais  Bourbon ;  as 
the  one  is  full  of  life  and  animation,  is  even 
tumultuous  sometimes,  so  the  other  holds  agita- 
tion and  noise  in  horror,  and  if  there  is  occasion- 
ally a  small  storm  the  accustomed  calm  soon 
re-establishes  itself.  In  brief  the  Senate  is  a 
great  political  salon,  where  one  discusses  but 
never  quarrels,  even  as  the  Chamber  is  ever 
a  political  fighting  ground. 

In  Paris,  as  at  Washington,  the  President 
(Speaker)  of  the  Lower  House  of  Parliament  is 
a  moderator  of  debates,  a  sort  of  schoolmaster, 
controlling  pupils  who  are  more  or  less  fractious ; 
but  the  American  Speaker  has  no  power  to  stop 
a  great  noise,  while  the  President  of  the  Cham- 
ber of  Deputies  has  the  recourse  of  putting  on 
his  hat,  and  this  mere  act  adjourns  the  session. 


228 


PARIS. 


The  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Commons  can  leave 
the  chair,  and  thus  suspend  a  sitting  when  his 
boys  are  ungovernable.  In  both  Paris  and 
London  the  presiding  officer  can  "  name "  a 
member,  fine  him,  or  suspend  him  temporarily 
from  membership.  The  Speaker  at  Washing- 
ton has  no  such  power  conferred  on  him  by  rule 
or  law.  Neither  in  Paris  nor  in  London  is 
such  a  thing  permitted  as  appealing  from  the 
decision  of  the  Speaker,  and  in  Paris  there  is  no 
such  padlock  game  as  moving  the  previous 
question.  The  English  Speaker  shouts,  "  Order ! 
Order !  "  the  American  Speaker  raps  with  a 
gavel,  the  French  Speaker  rings  a  bell  when  he 
wishes  to  stop  conversation  or  quiet  an  uproar. 
The  House  of  Commons  chooses  its  speakers 
rather  for  their  popularity  than  owing  to  any 
gifts  of  firmness  or  intelligence  which  they  are 
supposed  to  possess.  With  experience  they  in- 
crease in  excellence,  but  practically  the  task  of 
keeping  order  during  the  debates  devolves  on 
the  two  party  leaders. 

The  President  of  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  is 
chosen  by  the  members  who  are  in  a  majority, 
and  he  is  a  favourite  of  or  supposed  to  represent 
the  ideas  of  the  party  in  power.  As  a  matter 
of  fact  there  are  more  than  half  a  dozen  parties 


EEFKAOTORY  MEMBERS  IMPRISONED.  229 


in  the  Palais  Bourbon,  not  one  of  whom  has  an 
absolute  majority,  but  when  it  comes  to  elect- 
ing a  Speaker  several  of  the  more  moderate 
Republican  groups  combine  their  strength  on 
one  candidate,  so  as  to  prevent  the  election  of  a 
Radical  or  a  Royalist. 

At  St.  Stephens  refractory  members  can  be 
imprisoned  in  the  clock  tower.  At  the  Palais 
Bourbon  there  is  a  little  room  known  as  "  Le 
petit  locale,"  wherein  they  can  be  locked  up 
until  released  by  the  President  of  the  Chamber. 
Its  creation  is  due  to  the  turbulent  Baudrey 
d'Asson,  who  so  insulted  the  Republicans  one 
day  that  the  sergeant-at-arms  and  a  file  of 
soldiers  were  called  in.  When  the  colonel  and 
his  men  succeeded  in  getting  their  prisoner  out 
of  the  Chamber  they  did  not  know  where  to 
put  him,  but  presently  an  empty  room  was 
found,  and  the  key  of  it  being  turned,  the  Royal- 
ist Deputy  was  permitted  to  remain  there  for 
a  few  days  as  a  sort  of  example  to  those  of  the 
same  opinion  as  himself,  and  to  teach  them 
that  there  was  a  limit  to  the  endurance  of  their 
confreres.  It  still  contains  the  iron  bedstead 
and  two  chairs  which  were  placed  there  for  the 
accommodation  of  Baudrey,  but  it  has  only  been 
occupied  by  one  other  person  than  that  member. 


230 


PARIS. 


The  present  President  of  the  Chamber  of 
Deputies  is  the  fifteenth  Speaker  since  the 
National  Assembly  met  at  Bordeaux.  The 
first  under  the  Third  Republic  was  Jules 
Grevy.  As  a  presiding  officer  he  had  a  grave 
air  and  looked  calm  and  happy.  Of  an 
honesty  which  had  never  been  doubted,  and 
which  had  earned  him  the  surname  of  "  The 
Virtuous,"  he  was  an  impartial  presiding 
officer  and  passed  through  the  difficulties  of  the 
Versailles  assembly  to  his  own  and  his  coun- 
try's honor.  But  he  was  susceptible  and  rash 
occasionally.  One  day,  in  a  moment  of  ill- 
humour,  he  sent  in  his  resignation,  and  Buffet, 
a  Royalist,  replaced  him.  Monsieur  Buffet 
was  squint-eyed  and  sharp-featured,  and  be- 
lieved in  what  he  called  "  true  impartiality." 
Each  time  he  made  an  appeal  to  this  particular 
kind  of  fair  play  he  tightened  his  teeth  together 
and  rang  the  speaker's  bell  as  though  he  were 
a  town  constable  looking  for  a  lost  child. 
When  he  did  this,  members  looked  at  each 
other  in  a  knowing  way,  for  they  were  sure  he 
was  getting  ready  for  a  "true  impartiality" 
which  was  going  to  be  disagreeable  to  somebody. 
When  Buffet  was  called  on  to  constitute  the 
Cabinet   of   March,   1875,  by  the  Marshal- 


NOTABLE  SPEAKERS. 


231 


President,  MacMahon,  the  Due  d'Audiffret- 
Pasquier  ascended  the  chair  and  became 
Speaker  of  the  Chamber  of  Deputies.  The 
Duke  was  always  ready  for  a  fight,  and  he 
presided  with  a  stifFness  and  a  fiery  tempera- 
ment that  often  gave  Deputies  great  pleasure. 
He  was  not  lacking  in  eloquence,  had  some 
magnificent  points,  and  a  good  many  weak- 
nesses ;  but  he  was  small  in  size  and  looked  lost 
in  the  big  arm-chair.  Hot-tempered  and  of 
vulgar  manners,  he  was  not  over  popular  with 
the  members  ;  his  presidency  was  only  an  in- 
terregnum that  nobody  cared  to  remember. 

Toward  the  end  of  the  year  1875,  the 
Chamber  recalled  Jules  Grevy  to  the  chair,  and 
he  occupied  it  until  he  was  elected  President 
of  the  Republic.  Then  Leon  Gambetta  was 
chosen  Speaker,  and  the  mahogany  chair  with 
gilded  arms  was  hardly  big  enough  for  the 
u  Eagle  of  Cahors."  Still,  for  four  years  it 
was  the  seat  and  tribune  combined  of  Gambetta, 
and  from  it  he  in  turn  directed  and  interrupted 
the  discussions.  Whenever  overcome  with  an 
irresistible  desire  to  intervene  more  directly  he 
would  ask  permission  of  himself  to  speak,  he 
would  grant  himself  this  permission,  he  would 
leave  the  chair,  placing  one  of  the  Vice-Presi- 


232 


PARIS. 


dents  in  it,  take  his  place,  in  the  tribune,  make 
his  speech,  then  step  back  and  ask  his  friend  to 
vacate  the  mahogany  fauteuil.  Gambetta  was 
cut  out  for  conflicts  and  his  voice  was  as  big  as 
his  heart.  He  was  often  energetic,  it  might 
be  said  that  he  was  sometimes  too  energetic, 
especially  so  toward  adversaries,  concerning 
whom  he  held  that  courtesy  was  not  always 
requisite ;  but  he  was  an  all-round  good  fellow 
and  a  great  man. 

When  the  prime  ministership  took  Gambetta 
out  of  the  speaker's  chair  Henri  Brisson  was 
elected  President  of  the  Chamber.  Then  the 
House  returned  to  days  of  penitence,  abstinence, 
contrition,  tears  and  funeral  emotions.  It  used  to 
be  said  of  Brisson  that  his  laugh  was  three 
times  as  sad  as  the  sob  of  other  men.  He  left 
the  speaker's  chair  to  accept  the  portfolio  of  a 
Cabinet  officer,  and  was  one  of  the  candidates 
for  the  presidency  when  Monsieur  Carnot  was 
elected.  He  was  afterward  chairman  of  the 
special  committee  of  the  Chamber  charged  with 
investigating  the  Panama  scandals,  and  subse- 
quently was  re-elected  Speaker.  But  the 
House  resumed  its  smiling  appearance  and  the 
winter  of  discontent  was  suddenly  replaced  by 
genial  spring,  by  sunshine  and  by  animation, 


A  MODEL  PRESIDING  OFFICER.  233 


when  Charles  Floquet  was  elected  Speaker. 
Until  then  he  had  always  appeared  stiff  in 
style  and  overdignified,  but  in  the  chair  he  gave 
proof  of  charming  familiarity  and  of  an  intelli- 
gent manner.  He  was  a  model  presiding 
officer.  Up  to  all  parliamentary  tricks,  a  witty 
reply  to  an  impudent  question  fell  from  his  lips 
without  any  effort.  He  knew  nothing  about 
topical  songs,  but  he  knew  all  about  topical 
subjects,  and  he  soon  became  esteemed  by  all 
parties.  But  he  too  got  the  Prime  Minister 
bee  in  his  bonnet  and  resigned  the  speakership 
to  become  a  Cabinet  officer.  The  one  striking 
act  of  his  ministry  was  the  duel  he  had  with 
General  Boulanger.  Everybody  thought  the 
soldier  would  kill  the  civilian,  everybody  was 
glad  that  the  civilian  thrust  his  sword  into  the 
soldier's  neck.  There  were  those  afterward 
who  regretted  that  that  wound  had  not  been 
a  fatal  one. 

After  Floquet  came  Meline.  Nothing  can  be 
said  against  him  as  a  man,  as  a  citizen,  or  as  a 
politician,  but  at  first  he  did  not  know  how  to 
rule  the  members  or  to  give  decisions  that  were 
correct.  In  November,  1889,  Meline  became 
a  minister,  and  Floquet  was  re-elected  to  the 
speaker's  chair.    Every  year  he  was  re-elected, 


234 


PAEIS, 


and  lie  held  the  office  until  the  Panama  scandals 
touched  his  name,  when  he  resigned.  Then 
Cassimir-Perier  was  chosen  President  of  the 
Chamber  of  Deputies,  and  proved  himself  to  be 
an  able  man.  He  was  followed  by  Henri 
Brisson,  who  in  turn  was  followed  by  Meline 
again,  and  then  the  latter  made  place  for 
Monsieur  Paul  Deschanel,  one  of  the  most 
intelligent  of  foreign  statesmen.  He  has  long 
occupied  foremost  rank  among  European 
politicians,  besides  which,  he  is  a  publicist  of 
profound  thought,  originality  and  power,  and 
he  is  also  a  member  of  the  celebrated  French 
Academy. 

Besides  a  President,  there  are  two  Vice- 
Presidents,  two  secretaries  and  three  questors, 
all  being  elected  for  the  term  of  one  year  each. 
The  Chamber  is  divided  into  eleven  Bureaux 
or  standing  committees,  each  containing  about 
fifty  members,  or  a  few  more,  and  this  division 
is  made  by  drawing  of  lots  and  not  by  appoint- 
ment. The  French  Chamber  is  only  considered 
regularly  constituted  after  the  verification  of 
more  than  half  the  actual  number  of  deputies 
have  taken  their  seats,  the  permanent  officers 
all  being  elected  by  ballot.  An  absolute 
majority  is  necessary  to  make  a  quorum,  and 


SALARY  OF  PRESIDENT.  235 


the  successful  candidate  for  Speaker  must 
receive  more  votes  of  all  those  present  at  the 
time  than  all  other  candidates  combined.  At 
one  election  two  candidates  each  received 
exactly  the  same  number  of  votes,  and  yet 
this  tie  resulted  in  the  choice  of  one  of  them, 
because  the  law  is,  where  the  two  highest 
receive  the  same  vote  the  one  who  is  oldest  in 
years  is  elected.  All  Deputies  receive  each  a 
salary  of  $1800  annually.  The  three  questors 
of  the  Chamber  are  lodged  in  the  building, 
and  they  receive  a  salary  double  that  of  a 
simple  Deputy.  But  the  President  of  the 
Chamber  is  paid  $24,000  a  year,  plus  a  magnifi- 
cent residence,  plus  gas  or  electricity,  plus  free 
fuel,  plus  horses  and  carriages. 

During  the  past  one  hundred  years  the 
Chamber  of  Deputies  has  had  about  forty 
presidents.  Under  the  First  Empire  the  office 
was  purely  honorific ;  the  Corps  Legislatif 
counted  so  little  with  the  conqueror  of  Europe 
that  one  year  (1812)  he  quite  forgot  to  call  its 
members  together.  During  Napoleon's  reign 
the  Assembly  had  four  Presidents,  but  it  was 
with  the  Restoration  that  the  defile  of  a  certain 
number  of  remarkable  men  whose  names  are 
illustrious,  began.  The  Assemblee  Constituante 


236 


PARIS. 


of  1848,  which  lived  for  one  year,  had  four 
"  successive  Presidents,  not  one  of  whom  was  of 
great  importance.  With  the  Assemblee  Legis- 
latif  of  1849,  the  elder  Dapin,  who  had  been 
President  under  Louis  Philippe,  made  his 
re-appearance  in  the  speaker's  chair  and  he 
presided  over  the  Chamber  until  it  died  with 
the  Coup  d'Etat  of  December  2,  1851.  The 
Corps  Legislatif  of  the  Second  Empire  had  four 
Presidents  all  named  by  Louis  Napoleon. 
These  were :  Monsieur  Billault,  who  held  the 
position  until  he  was  appointed  Minister  of  the 
Interior ;  Due  de  Morny,  who  was  in  the 
fauteil  for  eleven  years,  until  his  death — he 
was  a  model  presiding  officer — Monsieur 
Walewski,  and  Monsieur  Schneider,  who  pre- 
sided at  the  last  session  of  the  Corps  Legislatif. 

The  mansion  occupied  by  him  as  President 
of  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  is  locally  known 
as  the  "  Petit  Bourbon."  Built  in  1722  by  the 
Marquis  de  Lassai,  it  was  called  the  Hotel  de 
Lassai,  and  was  so  known  until  it  became  the 
property  of  the  Prince  de  Conde  when  it 
became  the  u  Petit  Bourbon/'  so  named  because 
of  its  nearness  to  the  Palais  Bourbon.  Confis- 
cated during  the  Revolution,  it  was  returned 
to  the  Duke  of  Bourbon  in  1814,  to  become 


THE  SPEAKER'S  MANSION.  237 


afterward  the  property  of  his  heir  the  Due 
d'Aumale,  from  whom  the  Government  bought 
it  in  1832  to  make  of  it  the  official  mansion  for 
"Mr.  Speaker."  In  1846  a  story  was  added, 
the  rooms  of  wliicli  were  intended  to  serve  as 
the  private  residence  of  the  President,  and 
when  Moray  went  to  the  place  he  embellished 
the  house  superbly,  put  in  fine  furnishings,  and 
besides  which  added  a  large  gallery  for  festi- 
vals, so  that  an  incomparable  splendour  reigned 
about  the  Petit  Bourbon.  Until  his  death  the 
Duke  was  a  sort  of  vice-Emperor,  and  his  resi- 
dence was  a  petit  Tuileries,  so  to  speak,  whose 
fetes  attracted  all  Paris.  Count  Walewski, 
who  succeeded  the  Due  de  Morny,  continued 
those  gorgeous  traditions,  but  the  Hotel  took 
on  a  modest  style  when  Schneider  went  in. 

From  the  downfall  of  the  Empire  and  until 
the  Chamber  returned  to  Paris  from  Bordeaux, 
the  mansion  was  unoccupied ;  but  Gambetta 
made  it  once  more  a  famous  house.  He  was  a 
"  royal  host "  as  well  as  a  man  of  much  esprit, 
and  all  his  salary  as  President  of  the  Chamber, 
and  what  he  earned  with  his  pen,  was  spent 
freely  in  keeping  up  the  Morny  traditions.  It 
was  there  that  Trompette  first  became  famous. 
Trompette  was  the  chef  whom  Gambetta  took 


238 


PARIS. 


from  tlie  Due  de  Noailles  at  wages  of  twelve 
thousand  francs  a  year,  something  enormous 
for  Paris  and,  as  "  Mr.  Speaker  "  was  a  bachelor, 
he  put  a  great  deal  of  luxury  into  his  cuisine, 
his  dejeuners  being  celebrated.  One  evening 
he  gave  a  grand  fete  to  which  almost  everybody 
was  invited.  A  small  stage  had  been  con- 
structed in  the  large  gallery,  and  we  witnessed 
some  curious  divertissements  danced  and  pan- 
tomined  by  the  corps  de  ballet  from  the  Grand 
Opera,  There  are  seven  splendid  reception 
rooms  or  parlours  on  the  grand  floor.  Of  these 
the  "  Salon  des  Sciences  "  is  the  most  magnifi- 
cent. Its  walls  are  covered  by  rich  tapestries 
and  rare  paintings,  while  the  ensemble,  of  the 
finest  Louis  XV  style,  is  lighted  at  night  from 
two  lustres,  each  having  one  hundred  and  fifty 
burners,  by  electricity.  The  gallery  of  fetes 
and  several  other  salons  are  entirely  furnished 
in  the  taste  of  the  Second  Empire.  All  the 
rooms  "des  premier  etage,"  or  second  floor,  as 
we  say,  are  well  distributed  and  here  is  where 
one  finds  the  President  of  the  Chamber  of  Dep- 
uties in  office  hours. 

Ever  since  the  French  began  to  have  legisla- 
tive assemblies  the  post  of  presiding  officer  has 
always  vexed  the  temper  and  judgment  of  its 


CONTROL  OVER  UNRULY  DEPUTIES.  239 


many  occupants.  In  the  Chamber  of  Deputies 
"  Mr.  Speaker "  must  scold,  lecture,  menace ; 
he  may  even  launch  epigrams  at  honourable 
members,  and  the  more  readily  he  does  this  so 
much  the  more  will  he  be  respected.  As  a 
rule  his  troubles  come  less  from  the  members 
ranting  in  the  rostrum  than  from  the  loud  cries 
of  dissent,  the  banging  of  desk  lids  and  paper- 
knives,  the  derisive  laughter,  and  general  dis- 
ordering ess  of  other  members.  To  quiet  such 
uproars  the  President  has  a  bell,  which  he 
rings;  and  if  the  commotion  becomes  ungov- 
ernable he  has  the  resource  of  putting  on  his 
hat.  This  is  tantamount  "  to  leaving  the  chair," 
and  suspends  the  sitting.  Under  the  speaker- 
ship of  Monsieur  Buffet  all  the  factions  of 
the  National  Assembly  once  waged  a  regular 
fiofht  over  the  President's  hat.  A  not  over- 
scrupulous  Republican  had  obtained  furtive 
possession  of  this  headdress,  with  a  view  to 
preventing  Buffet  from  pronouncing  the 
u  cloture  "  ;  but  his  manoeuvre  was  seen,  and 
some  Royalists,  making  a  spirited  charge  at 
him,  recovered  the  hat  and  flung  it  up  to  the 
chair.  It  is  pertinent  to  add  that  the  Presiden- 
tial hat  forms  part  of  the  parliamentary  11  prop- 
erties," and  has  no  connection  with  the  Speak- 
er's ordinary  outdoor  head-gear. 


240 


PARIS. 


A  leading  French  Deputy  once  said:  "The 
hardest  thing  to  get  those  Deputies  who  don't 
speak  to  do  is  to  keep  quiet."  He  alluded  to 
members  who  rarely  if  ever  show  themselves  in 
the  tribune  but  who  are  strong  in  the  art  of 
interrupting  and  annoying  those  who  do. 
They  are  the  ones  who  get  up  the  rows,  who 
exclaim,  "Tres  bien!"  when  the  speaker  be- 
longs to  their  side  of  the  house  but  who  give 
vent  to  "  Oh's  "  and  to  "  Ah's  "  when  he  is  an 
opponent.  It  is  these  members  who  utter  such 
exclamations  as  :  "  Let  him  explain  !  "  "  How 
about  the  mixed  committees!  "  "Do  not  seek 
to  palliate  the  twenty-eighth  of  December," 
etc.,  which  appear  on  the  verbatim  reports  of 
stenographers. 

There  are  plenty  of  Deputies  who  have  re- 
duced the  art  of  oration  to  a  series  of  interjec- 
tions, but  the  greatest  interrupter  of  them  all 
was  the  one  alluded  to  as  the  first  and  last 
tenant  of  le  petit  local.  He  was  all  the  more 
dangerous  because  he  prepared  his  little  petards 
in  advance.  One  day  when  the  Chamber  was 
sitting  some  of  the  Deputies  heard  what  they 
thought  was  a  quarrel  going  on  in  one  of  the 
committee  rooms.  There  were  two  voices,  the 
one  grave  and  paternal,  which  said :  "  Do  you 


PARLIAMENTARY  ELOQUENCE.  241 


withdraw  the  remark?  "  and  another,  loud  and 
furious,  which  retorted,  "  No,  I  maintain  it 
loudly  and  furiously."  They  opened  the  door 
and  found  this  particular  Deputy  practising  at 
interrupting  an  imaginary  orator.  The  calmer 
voice  was  an  imitation  of  that  of  Monsieur 
Meline,  the  other  that  of  the  man  himself. 

The  acoustics  of  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  are 
more  defective  than  the  ventilation ;  the  semi- 
circular walls  give  back  strange  sounds  when  a 
member  is  speaking  and  makes  his  voice  de- 
generate into  a  hoarse  murmur  that  is  fatal  to 
eloquence.  Perhaps  this  may  not  be  of  much 
importance,  as  the  French  Chamber  is  no  excep- 
tion to  the  rule  laid  down  by  Disraeli  as  to  the 
effects  of  parliamentary  eloquence.  H  I  have 
heard  a  great  many  speeches  in  my  time,"  said 
that  English  statesman,  "  I  have  heard  some 
which  changed  my  opinion,  but  never  one  that 
changed  my  vote."  There  is  one  messenger, 
who  has  nothing  to  do  but  to  see  that  each 
speaker  has  a  glass  of  his  favourite  beverage 
within  reach  while  he  is  in  the  tribune. 
French  Deputies  are  very  eclectic  in  their 
oratorical  tipple.  Some  take  cold  black  coffee, 
others  Bordeaux  or  Burgundy;  I  know  one 
who  had  a  preference  for  "grog  Americane,"  a 


242 


PARIS. 


villainous  compound  unknown  to  any  American 
barkeeper. 

So  muck  for  tke  legislative  branck  of  Govern- 
ment ;  tke  administration  tkereof  at  Paris  rests 
witk  tke  President  of  tke  Republic  and  kis 
Cabinet  officers  of  wkom  tkere  are  eleven. 
Tkese  are :  Ministre  des  Affaires  Etrangeres, 
or  kead  of  tke  Foreign  Office;  Ministre  de 
Plnterieur,  or  Secretary  of  tke  Interior; 
Ministre  des  Finances,  or  Secretary  of  tke 
Treasury;  Ministre  de  Tlnstruction  Pub- 
lique,  Beaux-Arts  et  Cultes,  or  Minister 
of  Public  Instruction,  Fine  Arts  and  Reli- 
gions; Ministre  des  Justice;  Ministre  de 
Travaux  Publics,  or  Ckief  of  Public  Works; 
Ministre  de  la  Guerre,  or  Secretary  of  War; 
Ministre  de  la  Marine,  or  Secretary  of  tke  Navy  ; 
Ministre  de  V  Agriculture ;  Ministre  de  Com- 
merce; Sous-Secretaire  d'lStat  aux  Colonies,  or 
under-Secretary  of  State  for  tke  Colonies.  All 
of  tkese  Cabinet  officers  not  only  kave  an  official 
residence,  but  a  part  of  tkat  same  building  is 
occupied  as  tkeir  private  residence,  and  besides 
kaving  it  free  of  rental,  a  Minister  is  also 
allowed  ligkts  and  fuel,  korses  and  carriage, 
and  a  large  sum  of  money  annually  for  enter- 
tainment purposes,  in  addition  to  kis  regular 


LA  POMPADOURS  RESIDENCE.  243 


salary.  These  ministers  are  spoken  of  as  Cab- 
inet officers,  but  they  are  not  responsible  at  all 
to  the  President.  They  are  chosen  from  among 
the  members  of  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  or 
the  Senate,  and  are  responsible  to  the  former 
branch  of  Parliament. 

The  President  of  the  Republic  also  has  his 
residence,  the  White  House  at  Paris  being 
known  as  the  ]^lysee.  It  is  a  famous  mansion, 
and  the  present  occupant,  President  Loubet,  is 
the  seventeenth  official,  native  or  foreigner, 
who,  during  the  past  century  and  more  has  in 
turn  occupied  that  palace.  The  grounds  of 
the  ]£lysee  are  as  pretty  as  any  small  park  in 
the  capital,  while  the  house  itself  has  quite  a 
history.  Count  d'Evreux,  ex-colonel  general 
of  cavalry,  was  its  first  owner,  and  it  was  built 
on  land  that  he  purchased  from  the  widow  of 
Louis  XIY's  head  gardener.  He  sold  it  to  the 
Marquise  de  Pompadour  for  the  sum  of  six 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  livres,  and  she  ex- 
pended ninety-five  thousand  one  hundred  and 
sixty-nine  livres  on  repairs  and  improvements. 
She  enlarged  the  park  by  encroaching  on  the 
Champs  Elysees,  and  this  accounts  for  the  pro- 
jection of  the  rear  line  of  the  garden  into  the 
Avenue  Gabriel. 


244 


PARIS 


The  garden  was  not  then  enclosed  by  stone 
walls  topped  by  iron  palings.  It  was  protected 
by  a  "  saut  de  loup,"  or  ditch,  inside  of  which 
was  a  fence,  painted  green,  and  made  of  flat  iron. 
The  bedchamber  of  Madame  la  Pompadour 
was  sumptuous;  it  was  hung  with  gobelin 
tapestry,  while  four  palm  trees  ornamented 
with  wreaths  of  roses  supported  the  hangings 
and  baldaquin  of  a  very  coquettish-looking 
bedstead.  In  the  "  Salon  de  Musique"  a 
painting  of  the  nine  muses  in  relieved  gold 
filled  the  panels,  and  there  was  a  white  marble 
statue  representing  Louis  XV  as  Apollo.  In 
an  adjoining  room  was  another  statue  represent- 
ing the  Pompadour  as  chaste  Diana.  As  she 
held  office  at  Court  the  Marquise  had  apart- 
ments at  the  Palace  of  Versailles  also.  She 
died  there  in  1744,  and  hardly  were  her  eyes 
closed  when  they  started  with  her  body  for  the 
mansion  in  the  Rue  du  Faubourg  Saint 
Honore.  Her  brother,  Albert  Poisson,  Mar- 
quis de  Marigny,  inherited  the  place  and  still 
further  enlarged  it,  but  it  was  soon  purchased 
by  the  King  to  serve  as  a  palace  in  which 
to  lodge  special  ambassadors  from  foreign 
princes. 

It  was  also  used  as  a  "  Garde  Meuble  "  or 


OCCUPIED  BY  A  DUCHESS.  245 


place  where  State  furniture  was  stored,  until 
the  architect  finished  the  two  buildings  that 
now  occupy  one  side  of  the  Place  de  la  Con- 
corde, In  1773,  banker  Beaujon  became  the 
owner  of  the  house  and  grounds.  He  made 
considerable  alterations,  and  then  sold  the 
property  to  the  Duchess  de  Bourbon  for  the 
sum  of  one-million  three  hundred  thousand 
livres,  of  which  two  hundred  thousand  were 
for  the  mirrors.  When  the  Duchess  entered 
into  possession  she  called  it  the  ]£lysee,  and  to 
the  group  of  cottages  which  she  constructed  in 
the  gardens  she  gave  the  name  of  "Hameau 
de  Chantilly."  This  village  of  little  hamlets 
was  an  imitation  of  one  which  the  Prince  de 
Conde  had  constructed  at  Chantilly.  Pastorals 
and  shepherdesses  were  all  the  fashion  in 
those  days,  and  the  mad  world  liked  rural 
fancies. 

But  the  Duchess  de  Bourbon  did  not  long 
enjoy  her  purchase  ;  the  Revolution  broke  out, 
and  she  was  among  the  first  to  flee  the  country. 
In  1793  the  Ely  see  was  confiscated  and  became 
national  property.  It  was  leased  to  specula- 
tors, and  still  under  the  name  of  "  Hameau  de 
Chantilly,1'  was  the  scene  of  fetes  champetres, 
like  those  that  were  being  held  in  the  Pare 


246 


PARIS. 


Monceau,  at  the  Tivoli,  at  La  Chartreuse,  at 
Idalie  and  at  Paphos.  The  rooms  were  turned 
into  gambling  houses,  wherein  could  be  seen 
the  u  Inconceivables  "  and  the  "  Merveilleuses," 
perfumed  with  essences,  crowned  with  roses, 
shod  with  sandals  and  wearing  dresses  made  out 
of  transparent  materials,  promenading,  dancing 
and  gambling.  In  1803  the  place  was  sold  to 
Joachim  Murat,  whose  wife,  Caroline  Bona- 
parte, held  a  sort  of  court  there  until  he  left 
to  take  possession  of  the  kingdom  of  Naples. 
In  1808  it  was  sold  to  the  Emperor,  who  made 
it  his  "  buen  retiro,"  and,  as  he  used  often  to 
go  to  it  to  seek  relaxation,  it  was  called  the 
Elysee-Napoleon. 

On  the  twentieth  of  June,  1815,  at  eleven 
o'clock  at  night,  a  postchaise,  preceded  by  an 
outrider  arrived  in  the  court-yard  of  the  palace, 
and  in  that  carriage  was  the  defeated  man  of 
Waterloo,  who  had  hurried  from  the  battlefield 
to  arouse  exhausted  France  to  a  last  effort. 
He  was  received  by  Caulaincourt,  to  whom  he 
said,  as  he  got  out  of  the  carriage  :  "  The  army 
performed  prodigies  of  valour,  but  it  was  con- 
quered by  a  panic,"  Then,  after  a  moment's 
pause,  he  added  :  "I  am  worn  out.  I  must 
have  a  few  hours  of  repose  before  I  can  attend 


HOME  OF  THE  PRESIDENT. 


24? 


to  business."  The  day  of  the  twenty-first  was 
passed  in  interviews  with  Lucien  and  Joseph 
Bonaparte,  with  his  Ministers,  and  with  repre- 
sentatives of  the  Liberal  party.  The  question 
of  abdication  was  discussed  at  length.  Next 
day  Napoleon  signed  that  act,  and  on  the 
twenty-fifth  he  left  the  Elysee  forever. 

During  the  invasion  of  1814  and  1815, 
Alexander  I  of  Russia  lodged  in  it,  and  in  1816 
the  IClysee-Bourbon,  as  it  was  now  called,  was 
the  residence  of  the  Due  de  Berri.  The  night 
of  the  thirteenth  of  February,  1820,  he  was 
taken  there  after  he  had  been  assassinated. 
After  that  tragic  event  the  Duchesse  de  Berri 
abandoned  the  house,  but  later  on  she  again 
took  up  residence  in  it  with  her  children. 
From  1830  it  formed  part  of  the  palaces  belong- 
ing to  the  civil  list,  and  on  the  twentieth  of 
December,  1849,  Louis  Napoleon  Bonaparte, 
after  having  read  his  political  programme,  was 
conducted  to  it  by  three  questors.  During  the 
Third  Empire  the  Elysee  played  pretty  much 
the  same  role  that  it  had  under  the  First 
Empire,  and  it  was  the  quiet  retreat  to  which 
Napoleon  III  sometimes  went  to  seek  rest  from 
the  fatigue  of  the  mise  en  scene  of  the  Tuile- 
ries.    It  also  served  from  time  to  time  as  the 


248  PARIS. 

residence  of  some  illustrious  guests  passing 
through  Paris,  but,  finally,  under  the  Third 
Republic,  it  became  the  official  home  of  the 
President. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


The  parks  of  Paris — The  art  of  gardening — Jardin  des 
Tuileries  and  that  of  the  Luxembourg — The  plus 
belle  parure  of  the  capital — Sketch  of  the  Bois  de 
Boulogne — Once  a  forest  where  wolves  and  bears 
abounded — Now  the  favourite  resort  of  "  Tout 
Paris" — Two  large  race  courses — Seventy  miles  of 
carriage  and  bridle  roads,  forty-five  miles  of  lakes 
and  twenty  miles  of  running  waters — How  the 
city  makes  money  out  of  its  parks — the  wide 
thoroughfares  of  the  capital — Over  one  hundred 
thousand  trees  in  Paris  outside  of  its  Darks  and 
gardens. 

It  would  seem  but  proper  to  place  the  entire 
park  system  at  Paris  under  the  domination  of 
that  sometime  and  saintly  cultivator  of  flowers, 
shrubs  and  trees  known  as  St.  Fiacre,  but  it  has 
never  been  done  and  perhaps  never  will  be. 
This  need  not  prevent  our  continuing  the  sub- 
ject of  this  present  chapter,  which,  however,  is 
not  intended  to  be  an  historical,  much  less  a 
philosophical  treatment  of  landscape  gardening. 
For  that  matter  it  would  perhaps  be  difficult  to 
make  a  hierarchial  classification  of  the  arts,  or 


250 


PARIS. 


to  say  which  one  of  them  is  the  most  elevated 
or  should  be  given  first  position,  still  we  do 
know  that  nearly  all  of  them  are  grouped  in  a 
category  called  in  French  the  "  Beaux  Arts," 
and  in  English  Fine  Arts.  But  of  those  in- 
cluded within  this  category  none  seem  particu- 
larly devoted  to  landscape  gardening,  hence  a 
new  term  or  expression  is  needed.  That  of 
"  Jolis  Arts,"  or  beautiful  arts,  would  hardly 
answer  for  the  use  of  those  who  create  parks, 
or  who  write  and  talk  about  them.  Nor  will 
the  expression  "  Art  deLuxe,"  answer  the  pur- 
pose, although  landscape  gardening  certainly  is 
a  luxury.  Why  not  say  "Art  des  Jardins,"  or 
art  of  gardening,  precisely  as  one  says  the  art 
of  painting,  the  art  of  singing,  the  art  of  act- 
ing, the  art  of  writing,  the  art  of  this  that  or 
the  other  thing.  Certainly  the  art  of  garden- 
ing has  always  held  its  own  with  the  beaux  or 
jolis  arts,  and,  indeed,  it  has  maintained  its 
vitality  and  dignity  for  a  much  longer  period 
than  the  most  ancient  of  these  others.  We 
find  mention  of  Paradise  long  before  the  world 
had  ever  heard  of  painting ;  and  the  gods  passed 
their  idle,  if  not  their  thoughtful  hours,  in  the 
Elysian  fields,  ages  in  advance  of  the  period 
when  Greek  sculptures  were  created.    "  God 


PUBLIC  PARKS. 


251 


Almighty  first  planted  a  garden,"  wrote  Bacon, 
"  as  was  right,  for  that  is  indeed  the  purest  of 
human  pleasures." 

A  large  city  without  public  parks  will  not 
live  long,  or  at  least  will  continue  to  exist  very 
badly.  For  centuries  Paris  was  in  this  unfortu- 
nate condition.  Her  four  gardens  within  the 
walls  were  altogether  too  few  and  too  small  for 
her  great  needs.  These  four  were  the  Jardin  des 
Tuileries  the  Jardin  du  Luxembourg,  the  Jardin 
du  Palais  Royal,  and  that  of  the  Museum  of 
Natural  History.  It  was  the  Restoration  which 
embellished  the  Tuileries  garden,  put  statues 
in  it  and  replaced  the  thick  stone  wall  running 
along  the  North  side,  next  to  the  RuedeRivoli, 
by  the  iron-barred  fence  which  is  now  in  use. 
Under  Louis  Philippe  the  terrace  which  ex- 
tended before  the  chateau  was  destroyed,  and 
replaced  by  a  reserved  parterre,  but  Napoleon 
III  enlarged  this  parterre  at  the  public  expense, 
meanwhile  reserving  a  considerable  part  of  the 
garden  to  his  family  purposes,  including  the 
"  Terrasse  des  Feuillants,"  where  a  tennis  court 
was  constructed  for  the  Prince  Imperial.  Next 
the  whole  character  of  the  garden  was  changed, 
and  by  degrees  the  wide  alley  before  the  ground 
where  the  Tuileries  stood  became  a  perspective 


252 


PARIS, 


part  of  the  magnificent  panorama  stretching 
from  the  Louvre,  westward  to  the  Arc  de 
Triomphe. 

In  the  meantime,  the  Jardin  du  Luxembourg 
was  also  being  cared  for.  The  Convention  did 
something,  the  Empire  a  little  more,  and  Louis 
Philippe  a  good  deal.  It  was  he  who  first  had 
the  idea  of  getting  rid  of  antique  and  mutilated 
statuary,  and  of  creating  monumental  works  of 
art  to  the  most  illustrious  women  of  France. 
Then  came  the  turn  of  Baron  Haussmann,  who, 
while  beautifying  the  ancient  Quartier  Latin, 
also  increased  the  pleasures  to  be  found  in  the 
garden  of  the  Luxembourg,  although  it  was 
not  the  Baron  but  Monsieur  Alphand  who 
really  finished  that  Park,  as  well  as  the  avenues 
and  boulevards  to  the  South,  which  are  so 
splendidly  united  to  it  and  form  so  large  a  part  in 
its  real  magnificence.  Monsieur  Alphand  was  a 
fairly  good  Democrat,  who  willingly  accepted 
the  Eepublic  and  worked  well  for  it,  therefore 
it  is  not  true  that  Paris  was  beautified  only  dur- 
ing the  Second  Empire. 

It  is  altogether  too  much  of  .a  habit  among 
peoples  to  connect  city  improvements  with  some 
form  of  autocratic  or  monarchial  government. 
Nothing  could  be  further  from  the  truth  than 


THE  BOIS  DE  BOULOGNE.  253 


that  idea.  In  the  whole  of  Europe  there  is 
nowhere  any  country  to  be  found  which  is  doing 
so  much  in  the  way  of  park  and  other  city  im- 
provements of  almost  every  kind  as  is  the  United 
States.  Furthermore  the  French  Republic  is 
doing  more  in  that  direction  than  any  king- 
dom or  empire,  and  the  best  effects  on  the 
beauty  and  salubrity  of  Paris,  especially  in  its 
parks  and  gardens,  have  been  carried  out  more 
vigorously,  and  yet  more  economically,  since  the 
foundation  of  the  Third  Republic  than  ever 
before  in  the  history  of  the  capital.  There  are 
good  reasons  for  this  splendid  work ;  one  is 
that  in  garden  or  park  there  is  practically  no 
limit  to  variety,  while  in  buildings  there  are 
many.  Vegetation  varies  every  day  in  the 
year,  but  houses  bear  the  stamp  of  unchange- 
ableness. 

But  what  Paris  needed  most,  in  addition  to 
these  luxurious  public  resorts  within  her  very 
heart,  so  to  speak,  was  broad  open  spaces  for 
the  health  and  pleasure  of  her  inhabitants, 
further  away  from  the  centre  of  life  and  activ- 
ity ;  and  so  it  happened,  by  a  series  of  succes- 
sive transformations,  that  the  Bois  de  Boulogne 
became  the  plus  belle  parure  of  the  capital. 
The  name  which  this  park  bears  is  of  relatively 


254 


PARIS. 


recent  creation.  It  used  to  be  called  the  Forest 
of  Rouvray  because  of  the  rouvres  (English 
oaks)  which  then  grew  so  abundantly  there- 
abouts. It  was  a  forest  where  wolves  and 
bears  abounded,  and  which  was  frequented 
only  by  wood  choppers  and  charcoal  burners. 
When  Philippe  V  posed  the  first  stone  of  Notre 
Dame  de  Boulogne  in  the  hamlet  of  the  Menus- 
lez-Saint  Cloud,  which  afterward  became  the 
village  of  Boulogne-sur-Seine,  the  Forest  of 
Rouvray  was  placed  under  the  invocation  of 
the  new  church  and  called  Bois  de  Notre  Dame 
de  Boulogne,  from  which,  by  abbreviation, 
came  its  present  name. 

Before  the  Revolution,  the  Bois  de  Boulogne 
was  not  much  frequented  except  by  those  gay 
gallants  who  aided  in  making  a  convent  at  its 
Longchamps  the  scene  of  frequent  orgies.  It 
was  almost  wholly  during  the  nineteenth  century 
that  the  Bois  became  the  favourite  promenade 
of  that  elegant,  fashionable  and  also  common 
crowd  known  as  "  Tout  Paris."  If  it  were  not 
for  its  race-courses,  the  Bois  would  be  an  ideal 
park,  such  a  one  as  any  great  cosmopolitan  cap- 
ital should  possess.  A  splendid  system  of  wide 
driveways,  public  and  private  paths,  fine  sheets 
of  water  and  ample  open  spaces  of  extending 


ITS  MAGNIFICENT  AVENUES. 


255 


turf  in  a  delightful  forest  contribute  to  render 
it  deserving  of  highest  praise.  In  its  magnifi- 
cent avenues  are  noble  oaks,  elms  and  acacias, 
whose  leafy  branches  form  shaded  vaults  be- 
neath which  the  monde  and  the  demi-monde 
are  constantly  passing  afoot,  on  horses,  or  in 
carriages  of  every  kind.  In  its  lakes  are  islands 
made  beautiful  by  a  varied  collection  of  the 
finest  trees  and  shrubs,  while  along  its  streams 
are  numerous  cascades.  In  Summer,  on  the 
margins  of  these  islands,  fresh  pyramids  of  the 
deciduous  cypress  start  from  graceful  surround- 
ings of  hardy  bamboos  and  pampas  grass,  and  far 
beyond  is  a  group  of  bright  silvery  negundo  in 
the  midst  of  green  vegetation,  with  an  infinite 
variety  of  tree  form  around.  In  Autumn  the 
number  and  richness  of  the  tints  of  the  foliage 
afford  a  varied  picture  from  week  to  week ;  in 
the  Winter  the  many  graceful  forms  of  the 
deciduous  trees  among  evergreen  shrubs  and 
pines  offer  much  interest  to  an  observant  eye ; 
in  Spring  the  scene  is  animated  by  the  cheerful 
flush  of  a  bloom  that  comes  with  the  help  of  a 
strengthening  sun,  when  the  still  leafless  oaks 
and  magnolias  begin  to  show  signs  of  early 
awakening. 

The  forming  of  race-courses  in  important 


256 


PAEIS. 


positions  at  the  Bois  was  a  great  mistake. 
Paris  is  large  enough  and  rich  enough  to  rid  her 
beautiful  park  of  such  fungi  as  horse-trainers, 
"  touts,"  book-makers,  and  turf -men  generally, 
many  of  them  at  best  but  a  sorry  lot.  It  was 
an  error  to  let  Longchamps  and  Auteuil  over 
to  flat-racing,  steeplechases  and  hurdle- jumps. 
Imagine  the  best  part  of  Central  Park,  New 
York,  of  the  Boston  or  Chicago  system  of 
Public  Parks  or  of  Regent's  Park,  London,  set 
apart  for  horse  races!  And  yet  not  only  is 
the  Bois  de  Boulogne  thus  misused  from  time 
to  time  in  two  different  places,  but  a  large 
space  is  railed  in,  with  a  grand  stand  and  all  its 
appurtenances,  which  are  in  permanent  occupa- 
tion of  what  should  be  the  most  beautiful  spot 
in  the  capital. 

The  Bois  de  Boulogne  is  hardly  so  large  as 
the  Bois  de  Vincennes,  but  is  more  beautiful 
and  more  popular.  It  has  two  thousand  acres, 
and  includes  nearly  seventy  miles  of  carriage 
I  and  bridle  roads,  forty-five  miles  of  lakes,  and 
some  twenty  miles  of  running  water,  which 
does  not  embrace  the  River  Seine  that  bathes 
its  western  boundary.  It  has  cost  the  city  over 
$3,000,000,  while  the  Bois  de  Vincennes,  which 
has  two  thousand  three  hundred  acres,  has 


MANY  HISTORICAL  EDIFICES.  257 


cost  only  a  little  more  than  $1,000,000.  Aside 
from  the  old  palace  or  chateau  of  Philippe 
Augustus  and  of  Saint  Louis,  Vincennes  Park 
has  no  houses  to  boast  of,  but  that  of  Boulogne 
contains  many. 

There  is,  for  instance,  La  Muette,  commenced 
by  Charles  IX,  enlarged  by  Louis  XIII,  and 
rebuilt  by  Louis  XV;  La  Bagatelle,  where 
Mademoiselle  Charlaois  was  fond  of  living; 
later  it  was  the  house  of  Comte  d'Artois,  and 
finally  became  the  property  of  Sir  Richard 
Wallace ;  the  Cafe  Madrid,  which  used  to  be  a 
chateau,  was  occupied  by  Francois  I,  and  was 
given  by  Henri  IV  to  his  first  wife,  Marguerite 
of  Valois.  A  crenelated  tower  in  the  Bois  de 
Boulogne  is  all  that  remains  of  the  ancient 
Abbey  of  Longchamps,  where  Henri  IV  made 
his  headquarters  when  he  was  besieging  Paris, 
and  whose  Abbess  capitulated  to  that  gallant 
King  long  before  he  gained  the  capital.  The 
first  balloon  ascension  was  made  in  the  Bois. 
The  old  mill,  once  run  by  wind  power,  that  is 
still  standing  dates  from  1648.  The  Pavilion 
d'Armenonville,  now  a  popular  but  expensive 
restaurant,  was  built  in  1730  as  a  factory  for 
silk  stockings.  There  is  an  old  cemetery  in 
the  Bois,  so  well  hidden,  however,  that  few 


258 


PARIS, 


persons  ever  see  it ;  and,  it  may  be  added,  the 
park  has  been  the  scene  of  many  celebrated 
duels.  Its  large  cascade  and  its  lakes  were  not 
in  existence  prior  to  1858.  Of  its  two  thou- 
sand acres  fully  one-half  are  covered  by  trees, 
one-fourth  by  lawns  and  meadows,  the  rest  by 
roads,  waters  and  nurseries.  There  are  more 
than  two  thousand  wooden  seats  for  those  who 
are  tired,  also  some  fifty  drinking  fountains  for 
man  and  beast  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne. 

But  after  all  that  is  said  and  done  the  place 
is  not  what  the  Parisians  term  tris  campagne, 
that  is  to  say,  is  not  like  real  country.  It  is 
rather  prim  and  precise,  every  thing  being  too 
much  labeled.  Still  in  the  season  of  verdure, 
when  the  grass  is  green,  the  leaves  are  out,  and 
the  flowers  blooming,  the  routes,  the  allees  the 
sentiers  are  alive  with  people,  horses  and  vehi- 
cles. When  there  is  the  fresh  perfume  of  woods 
and  blossoms,  the  music  of  sighing  boughs,  the 
twitter  of  birds,  the  murmuring  waters  and  the 
bounding  deer;  when  Spring  has  made  her 
toilet  to  coquette  with  Summer  and  even  with 
early  Autumn,  then  there  is  no  Park  that  will 
excel  the  Bois  de  Boulogne  of  Paris.  Not 
Hyde  Park,  most  assuredly,  so  correctly 
arranged,  so  proudly  freed  from  all  public  cabs, 


THE  BOIS  LENT  TO  BASE  USES.  259 


nor  even  Regent's  Park.  Not  the  Prater  nor 
the  Thiergarden,  nor  Central  Park ;  and  yet 
with  all  its  splendour  the  Bois  de  Boulogne 
has  been  lent  to  some  base  uses. 

The  year  before  I  gave  up  my  residence  at 
Paris  the  Municipal  Council  had  something  like 
a  hundred  of  its  finest  trees  cut  down  so  as  to 
establish  a  bicycle  course  in  one  of  its  most 
charming  corners,  and  that  was  little  less  than 
vandalism.  A  large  part  of  the  Bois  is  occu- 
pied by  the  Jar  din  d'Acclimatation,  which  is 
not  so  bad ;  but  the  pigeon-shooting  grounds,  the 
polo  grounds,  the  two  race  courses,  the  cinder- 
path  and  grounds  for  foot-runners,  the  uncovered 
riding  school,  the  velodrome  or  bicycle  park,  the 
training  field  for  cavalry,  the  milk  farm  of  the 
Pre-Catelan  with  its  cowstables,  the  abandoned 
cemetery,  the  admirable  but  private  pare  of 
Bagatelle,  the  many  drinking  and  eating  places 
— all  these  things  do  not  belong  in  a  public 
garden. 

It  is  true  the  city  makes  some  money  out  of 
all  these  establishments,  save  perhaps  two  or 
three,  still  the  annual  rental  paid  by  the  Societe 
d'Encouragement  for  the  use  of  the  hippodrome 
de  Longchamps  as  a  race  course  is  only  about 
$2,400.    The  Steeplechase  society  pays  only 


260 


PARIS. 


$2,000  yearly  for  the  grounds  it  litters  near 
Auteuil;  certain  refreshment  places,  of  the 
smaller  kind,  but  which  are  very  numerous, 
bring  in  as  much  as  $3,400  per  annum ;  the 
restaurant  of  the  Grande  Cascade  pays  $1,200, 
that  of  Armenonville  pays  $1,760  ;  the  skating 
pond  rents  for  $3,000;  the  pavilion  Chinois  for 
$3,400  ;  permission  to  fish  brings  in  $360 ;  the 
mowing  of  grass  at  the  Pre-Catelan  $3,300; 
the  Jardin  d'Acclimatation  $200,  etc.  These 
revenues  offset  the  expense  of  keeping  up  the 
Bois  de  Boulogne,  it  is  true,  but  that  is  not  a 
sufficient  reason  for  pushing  the  rage  for  rent- 
ing something  to  somebody  to  such  an.  extent, 
and  this  incomparable  promenade  might  be  kept 
up  without  having  resource  to  such  expedients. 
The  annual  cost  of  the  Bois  is  only  a  little 
more  than  $100,000  and  this  includes  not  only 
the  salaries  but  the  uniforming  and  housing  of 
the  park-keepers.  As  for  the  Bois  de  Vin- 
cennes  it  might  be  put  aside  as  merely  a  vast 
training  ground,  mainly  of  young  soldiers, 
although  it  is  in  parts  a  beautiful  public  park. 

In  the  height  of  the  season  there  is  no 
other  place  so  wide-awake  and  glorious  as  the 
Bois  de  Boulogne,  so  full  is  it  of  elegance  and 
coquetry,  so  thoroughly  cosmopolitan  is  it  in 


ITS  MANY  CHAEMS. 


261 


all  its  shade  and  sunshine.  There  is  a  great 
deal  that  is  natural  in  that  park  but  nature  did 
not  have  all  to  do  with  its  creation.  It  has 
often  seemed  to  me  as  if  the  Bois  were  put 
together,  as  if  it  could  be  taken  apart,  were  it 
necessary,  as  if  it  were  washed,  varnished  and 
set  out  every  morning  for  the  gratification  of 
human  eyes.  The  birds  in  the  Bois  look  and 
sing  so  differently  from  other  birds  that  one  can- 
not but  think  they  were  wound  up  at  the  same 
hour,  that  their  plumage  had  been  gently  dusted, 
and  that  they  were  told  to  fly  off  and  warble 
all  day  long.  The  sun  condescends  to  lend  its 
aid  to  make  things  beautiful,  and  from  early 
dawn  scatters  golden  rays  over  the  entire  scene, 
puts  emerald  tints  on  the  trunk  of  oaks  or  syca- 
mores, makes  masses  of  thickets  luminous  with 
light.  The  clear  waters  of  the  lakes  and  streams 
reflect  with  discernment  the  equipages  and  peo- 
ple moving  along,  or  bear  on  their  placid  waves 
an  army  of  well-bred  ducks  and  swans  which 
come  to  beg  for  crumbs  with  all  kinds  of  grace- 
ful and  bewitching  airs.  Many  of  the  equip- 
ages that  pass  are  emblazoned — liveried  driver 
and  footman,  harness  monogramed  or  crested — 
in  them  loll  "  daughters  of  the  horse  leech," 
ravishing  under  their  face  paintings,  or  behind 


262 


PARIS, 


tlieir  rosy  lips  and  sparkling  eyes.  But  most 
of  the  private  carriages  carry  persons  who  are 
altogether  comme  il  faut,  some  being  of  the 
highest  nobility. 

The  common  people  are  numerous,  however, 
and  these  are  in  public  voitures  which  have  the 
right  to  go  wherever  the  stately  landaus  or 
phaetons  from  the  Faubourg  Saint  Germain, 
the  daumonts  of  ambassadors,  the  dog-carts  of 
English  swells,  or  the  four-in-hand  coaches  of 
American  nabobs  dare  to  go  It  is  a  constant 
frou-frou  of  silks  and  laces,  of  velvety  flesh  and 
discreet  laughter,  of  easy  chattering  and  kindly 
recognitions,  an  orgie  of  colours,  a  display  of 
aristocratic  pride  and  democratic  simplicity,  all 
that  elegant  side  for  which  Paris  is  so  famous, 
and  much  of  that  wicked  side  for  which  the 
city  is  so  notorious,  moving  on  in  three  or  four 
rows  of  carriages  close  together,  to  the  sound 
of  clamping  bits,  jingling  buckles  or  trace- 
chains,  as,  meanwhile,  heads  are  held  high  with 
that  satisfied  beatitude  of  riches  which  can  com- 
mand the  luxuries  of  life,  even  love  itself. 
From  four  o'clock  till  half-past  six  of  every 
afternoon  the  allees,  the  roads  and  the  paths 
are  crowded,  but  before  seven  o'clock  almost 
every  one  is  on  his  or  her  way  back  to  Paris, 


EVENING  SCENE  IN  THE  CAPITAL.  263 


for  the  dinner  hour  is  near,  and  we  may  as  well 
follow  the  crowd  and  return  also. 

Here  is  the  Avenue  du  Bois  de  Boulogne, 
incomparable  in  its  width  and  splendour ;  here 
the  triumphal  arch  looms  up  grandly  in  the 
midst  of  stately  mansions.  People,  still  loung- 
ing on  the  iron  chairs  by  the  wayside,  watch  us 
with  curiosity  as  our  carriages  rattle  down  the 
Avenue  of  the  Champs  Elysees,  and  very  likely 
among  those  younger  girls  seated  under  the 
trees  is  some  one  already  dreaming  of  the  future 
days  when  she  too  will  be  old  enough  or  able 
to  join  the  throng  of  pleasure  seekers.  We  see 
the  stone  horses  of  Marly  glistening  beneath 
the  glints  of  a  setting  sun ;  the  obelisk  points 
skyward  with  all  its  oriental  mysteriousness ; 
the  ribbon  of  the  Champs  Elysees  unfolds  with 
its  dull  golden-tinged  dust;  off  on  the  right 
the  Palais  Bourbon  shows  its  Grecian  outlines  ; 
the  fountains  in  the  Place  de  la  Concorde  are 
casting  up  their  feathery  masses  of  liquid  silver ; 
omnibuses,  drawn  by  three  powerful  horses 
abreast  and  loaded  with  passengers,  rumble 
through  the  place  ;  club  terraces  are  filled  with 
gentlemen  who  smoke  and  yawn  while  waiting 
for  their  table  d'hote  dinner,  after  which  they 
will  dash  into  the  gambling  rooms,  or  hurry  off 


264 


PARIS. 


to  smoke  and  yawn  elsewhere ;  shops  are  bril- 
liant, the  sidewalks  thronged,  and  Paris,  the 
smiling,  laughing,  busy  capital,  the  ville 
lumiere,  whose  virtues  and  vices  are  the  envy 
of  all  other  cities,  bursts  into  a  blaze  of  light, 
for  night  has  come  down. 

These  two  great  parks — the  Bois  de  Boulogne 
and  the  Bois  de  Vincennes — are  both  excellent 
in  their  way,  still  they  would  produce  only  a 
partial  good  if  vast  areas  of  densely  packed 
streets  within  Paris  were  unrelieved  by  open 
spots  where  the  air  is  comparatively  pure  and 
free,  and  where  the  eye  may  be  refreshed  with 
green  at  almost  every  point.  Besides  the  pub- 
lic gardens,  the  avenues  and  boulevards  are 
such  open  spaces  for  the  benefit  and  enjoyment 
of  Parisians.  The  great  city  is  pierced  in  every 
direction  with  magnificent  wide  streets  flanked 
with  rows  of  trees,  which  relieve  man's  work 
in  stone  with  the  changeful  beauty  of  foliage. 
The  numerous  visitors  to  Paris  see  little  more 
than  the  boulevards — that  long  thoroughfare 
extending  from  the  Place  de  la  Bastile  to  La 
Madeleine  which  we  followed  in  another 
chapter,  and  altogether  too  many  strangers 
"  within  the  walls  "  have  but  a  meagre  idea  of 
the  vast  extent  of  the  Paris  boulevards  in  the 


ELM-BORDERED  BOULEVARDS.  265 


outward  and  less  known  regions  of  the  capital. 
The  elm-bordered  boulevards  of  Sebastopol 
and  Saint  Michel  cut  through  the  city  from 
north  to  south  in  a  straight  line,  and  on  their 
way  effectually  open  up  several  old  quarters ; 
while  beyond  their  outer  extremities,  and 
between  the  fortifications  and  the  central  dis- 
tricts, still  larger  boulevards  sweep  round,  wide 
enough  to  be  planted  with  groves  of  trees,  and 
to  prevent  overcrowding  for  all  time. 

Immediately  within  the  fortifications  there  is 
a  wide  boulevard  running  completely  around 
the  city  for  many  miles,  but  under  various 
names,  while  from  every  circular  open  space, 
like  the  Place  du  Trone,  Place  du  Trocadero, 
Place  d'ltalie,  or  Place  de  T^toile,  broad  tree- 
planted  streets  radiate.  These  boulevards  are, 
generally  speaking,  so  very  much  alike  that  to 
describe  them  in  detail  is  needless.  From 
house  to  house  they  are  usually,  in  the  most 
frequented  parts,  over  one  hundred  feet  wide, 
occasionally  reaching  between  one  hundred 
and  forty  and  one  hundred  and  sixty  feet,  even 
much  wider  than  that  in  the  outer  boulevards, 
which  are  sometimes  large  enough  for  half  a 
dozen  lines  of  trees  in  addition  to  very  wide  foot- 
ways, two  roadways,  and  a  broad  central  one, 


266 


PARIS. 


as  is  the  case  with  the  Avenue  de  la  Grande 
Armee.  The  footways  of  the  most  frequented 
boulevards  are  about  twenty-six  feet  wide  on 
each  side,  and  sometimes  more. 

The  Boulevard  Beaumarchais  is  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  in  Paris,  being  more  than 
usually  ornamental ;  it  is  two  thousand  yards 
long,  and  is  in  great  part  built  over  a  canal. 
The  openings  into  this  canal  are  wired  over, 
and  are  surrounded  by  a  thick  low  hedge  of 
close  evergreens.  Of  avenues,  however,  the 
largest  and  most  picturesque  is  the  Avenue  du 
Bois  de  Boulogne,  leading  from  the  Arc 
de  Triomphe  to  the  Bois.  This  handsome 
thoroughfare  was  formed  in  order  to  put  the 
centre  of  Paris  in  communication  with  that 
park  by  means  of  a  wide  direct  road.  Half 
the  expense  was  borne  by  the  State,  under  the 
conditions  that  an  iron  railing  of  uniform  design 
was  to  be  constructed  along  the  whole  length 
of  the  road  in  front  of  the  private  properties, 
that  a  strip  of  eleven  yards  in  breadth  be  left 
for  a  garden  between  this  railing  and  the 
private  mansions  on  each  side,  and,  further,  that 
no  kind  of  trade  or  manufacture  should  be 
carried  on  in  any  of  the  houses  adjoining. 
The  total  length  of  this  avenue  is  one  thousand 


ONE  HUNDRED  THOUSAND  TEEES.  267 


four  hundred  yards  and  it  has  a  width  of  one 
hundred  and  fifty  yards.  It  consists  of  a  cen- 
tral drive  twenty  yards  in  width,  of  two  large 
sidewalks,  each  measuring  fifteen  yards  wide, 
of  a  wide  path,  or  u  Rotten  Row,"  for  eques- 
trians, and  of  two  long  strips  of  grass  with 
shrubs  and  flowers. 

Outside  of  its  gardens  and  parks,  the  trees 
of  Paris,  those  which  ornament  the  public 
thoroughfares  alone,  number  more  than  one 
hundred  thousand.  These  are  plane  trees, 
elms,  lindens,  maples,  sycamores,  poplars,  etc., 
and,  as  has  already  observed,  the  average  cost 
to  the  city  of  each  of  these  amounts  to  $40. 
Therefore  the  trees  of  Paris  in  the  streets — 
boulevards,  avenues  and  rues — alone  are  worth 
$5,000,000.  This  expense  is  not  at  all  excessive 
when  compared  with  the  gain  to  public  health. 
Trees  are  indispensable  to  renew  the  vitiated 
air  of  a  large  city,  by  absorbing  the  carbonic 
acid  which  they  decompose  and  transform  into 
oxygen.  They  furnish  shade  in  summer  to 
those  who  are  obliged  to  circulate  in  the  larger 
streets;  and  furthermore,  they  contribute 
greatly  to  the  beauty  of  a  place.  It  is  perhaps 
well  to  know  exactly  the  cost  of  all  this  charm- 
ing luxury  of  parks  and  promenades  to  the 


268 


PARIS. 


capital.  Without  counting  the  Tuileries  and 
the  Luxembourg,  both  of  which  belong  to  the 
State,  and  leaving  out  the  u  two  lungs"  of 
Paris,  as  the  Bois  du  Boulogne  in  the  West, 
and  the  Bois  de  Vincennes  in  the  East,  are 
justly  termed,  there  exists  in  the  city,  under 
the  form  of  parks,  gardens,  squares  and  places, 
that  have  grass  or  shrubbery,  a  total  surface  of 
about  seven  hundred  acres.  If  we  add  the  two 
Bois  we  have  a  grand  total  of  five  thousand 
acres,  laid  out  and  kept  up  for  the  good  health 
and  great  pleasure  of  Parisians ;  and  all  this 
costs  the  capital  something  like  $700,000 
annually. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


The  paths  of  knowledge  and  enlightenment — An  insti- 
tution of  incomparable  greatness — Over  three  mil- 
lion printed  books  in  the  National  Library — Its 
reading  rooms — The  hotel  and  family  of  De  Nevers 
— Financial  establishments  in  Paris — The  Bank  of 
France — Its  governor  and  board  of  directors — The 
annual  balance  of  sheet — A  most  extraordinary 
cash  box — The  Bourse,  or  stock  exchange — Mem- 
bership limited  to  sixty  brokers — Seats  worth  over 
$325,000— The  Coulisse,  or  street  board— The  Petit 
Bourse. 

Having  thus  clearly  indicated  the  paths  of 
pleasure,  let  us  now  return  once  more  to  the 
paths  of  knowledge  and  enlightenment,  and 
thence  take  in  some  of  the  financial  and  commer- 
cial institutions  of  the  capital.  An  institution 
of  incomparable  greatness,  one  which  has  long 
been  the  admiration  of  the  world,  is  the  National 
Library  at  Paris.  Since  the  days  of  Alexan- 
dria there  has  never  been  a  city  on  earth  where 
so  many  works  of  literature  and  art  were  stored 
in  one  building  as  are  now  in  the  library  of  the 
Rue  Richelieu.    The  Bibliotheque  Rationale, 


270 


PARIS. 


as  it  is  called,  after  having  been  successively, 
and  during  many  years,  Bibliotheque  Royale 
and  Bibliotheque  Imperiale,  is  situated  in  the 
street  named  in  honour  of  the  great  cardinal. 
Charlemagne  was  the  first  French  monarch  who 
attempted  to  form  a  collection  of  books,  and  as 
some  of  those  which  belonged  to  that  sovereign 
are  still  in  the  Bibliotheque  Rationale,  he  may 
justly  be  looked  upon  as  one  of  its  founders. 

After  numerous  vicissitudes,  resulting  from 
the  foreign  and  civil  wars  of  the  succeeding 
centuries,  we  find  a  library  under  Charles  V  of 
nine  hundred  and  ten  volumes.  At  the  death 
of  Fran<jois  I  it  had  a  little  more  than  doubled 
the  number  of  its  volumes.  Louis  XIV  found 
five  thousand  works  in  the  Royal  Library,  and 
during  his  long  reign  added  sixty-five  thousand 
more,  leaving  at  his  death  the  richest  library 
in  Europe.  With  the  Revolution  the  library 
became  suddenly  enriched  with  the  spoils  of 
the  libraries  of  all  the  religious  houses  in  France 
which  had  been  suppressed  by  the  Republicans, 
and  many  of  its  rarest  manuscripts  and  choicest 
treasures  were  the  result  of  this  measure.  To- 
day the  library  is  no  longer  able  to  count  its 
wealth.  It  is  known  to  have  over  three  million 
printed  books,  one  hundred  thousand  manu- 


THE  NATIONAL  LIBEARY.  271 


scripts,  two  million  five  hundred  thousand 
stamps,  engravings  and  maps,  and  one  hundred 
and  twenty  thousand  medals  or  historical  in- 
scriptions. 

All  of  this  wealth  is  placed  at  the  free  dis- 
posal of  the  public,  under  certain  conditions. 
For  the  printed  works  there  are  two  depart- 
ments. The  public  reading  room,  entrance  to 
which  is  in  the  Rue  Colbert,  where  some  sixty 
thousand  volumes  are  placed  at  the  disposal  of 
the  general  public,  is  a  room  capable  of  accom- 
modating two  hundred  and  fifty  readers.  This 
room  closes  at  four  o'clock  and  is  open  to  the 
public  on  Sundays.  The  other  department  of 
printed  books  is  the  Salle  de  Travail,  or  study 
hall.  In  order  to  procure  admission  to  this,  a 
reader's  card  is  needed,  but  they  are  not  diffi- 
cult to  procure  on  application  to  the  general 
manager  of  the  library,  after  furnishing  him 
with  satisfactory  evidence  that  the  card  is 
wanted  for  the  purpose  of  study.  Even  with- 
out a  card,  a  stranger  who  may  desire  to  con- 
sult some  work  will,  on  stating  the  motives  of 
his  visit  to  the  librarian  in  charge  of  the  room, 
be  at  once  admitted  for  the  day. 

The  Salle  de  Travail  is  a  large  hall  with 
a  lofty  roof  lighted  by  nine  glass  domes  and  a 


272 


PARIS. 


window  which  occupies  nearly  the  whole  of  one 
end.  The  walls  are  covered  with  books  from 
floor  to  ceiling.  The  floor  is  carpeted  with 
linoleum,  so  that  the  heaviest  tread  makes  no 
noise.  Comfortable  arm-chairs  and  convenient 
tables  and  inkstands  are  at  the  disposal  of  the 
readers  in  sufficient  numbers  to  accommodate 
three  hundred  and  fifty  at  a  time.  Every 
printed  work  in  the  library,  except  novels,  is 
at  the  disposal  of  the  reader,  while  around  the 
rooms  are  cases  containing  some  three  thousand 
works  of  reference  which  can  be  used  without 
any  formality.  Certain  books  can  only  be  con- 
sulted at  a  special  table,  under  the  eye  of  an 
official,  and  on  another  table  lies  a  very  rich 
collection  of  the  leading  periodicals  in  all 
languages. 

The  hours  in  the  Salle  de  Travail  are  the 
same  as  in  the  public  reading  room,  but  it  is 
not  open  on  Sundays.  At  three  o'clock  no 
more  books  are  given  out  unless  they  have 
been  called  for  before  that  hour.  Five  minutes 
before  four  o'clock  one  of  the  guardians  an- 
nounces in  a  loud  tone :  "  Gentlemen,  the  library 
will  close  soon,"  which  is  the  signal  for  the 
return  of  the  books  and  the  obtaining  of  passes 
for  the  portfolios,  etc.,  with  which  nearly  every 


BARE  MANUSCRIPTS. 


273 


habitu6  of  the  Salle  de  Travail  is  pretty  certain 
to  be  supplied. 

The  department  of  engravings  and  stamps 
and  the  collection  of  geographical  charts  and 
maps  are  also,  like  the  Salle  de  Travail,  on  the 
ground  floor.  In  the  former  a  copy  of  almost 
any  engraving  that  has  ever  been  struck  in 
France  may  be  seen  arranged  and  classified  in 
large  volumes.  Those  charts  and  maps  which 
are  at  all  curious  or  interesting  are  arranged  in 
glass  cases.  These  departments,  like  the  gallery 
of  rare  manuscripts,  are  open  to  the  general 
public  twice  a  week,  but  readers  with  tickets 
to  the  Salle  de  Travail  are  always  admitted  to 
them  on  any  day.  On  the  second  floor  one 
wing  is  occupied  by  a  splendid  gallery  whose 
decoration  dates  back  to  the  eighteenth  century, 
and  in  which,  arranged  in  glass  cases,  are  all 
the  rarest  manuscripts  in  the  possession  of  the 
library.  Although  placed  here  for  exhibition, 
any  of  them  may  be  called  for  and  examined,  or 
used,  under  the  eye  of  one  of  the  librarians,  in 
a  room  specially  arranged  for  the  purpose,  where 
there  is  every  accommodation  that  can  be  desired 
for  some  seventy  readers  at  a  time. 

The  buildings  occupied  by  the  National  Li- 
brary became  the  property  of  the  State  in  1721, 


274 


PARIS. 


when  it  was  purchased  after  the  failure  of  the 
notorious  "  Mississippi  "Law.  It  had  been  oc- 
cupied before  that  failure  by  the  Banque  Royale, 
and  prior  to  its  having  belonged  to  that  bank  it 
had  successively  been  the  Palace  of  Cardinal 
Mazarin,  the  property  of  the  Marquis  Mancini 
and  the  mansion  of  the  family  of  De  Nevers. 
It  is  as  the  Hotel  de  Nevers  that  it  was  best 
known,  and  the  name  has  clung  to  the  older 
portion  of  the  building  to  this  day.  A  strange 
family  were  the  De  Nevers,  and  the  chron- 
iques  sca?idaleuse  of  the  eighteenth  century 
are  filled  with  their  exploits.  One  Duchesse 
de  Nevers  was  made  out  of  La  Quinault  Du- 
fresne,  a  danseuse  of  the  Opera,  who  had  been 
successively  the  mistress  of  Samuel  Bernard, 
of  the  Marquis  de  Nesle,  and  of  Phillippe  d' 
Orleans.  It  was  in  this  building  that  the  li- 
brary was  permanently  located  in  1724,  and 
became  known  as  the  Bibliotheque  du  Roi. 
Then  it  was  only  open  to  the  public  twice  a 
week,  on  Tuesdays  and  Fridays,  from  nine  a.  m. 
till  mid-day,  and  it  was  not  until  1792  that  it 
was  opened  every  day.  Before  the  Revolution 
the  Bibliotheque  du  Roi  was  one  of  the  chief 
curiosities  of  the  capital,  and  among  the  sou- 
venirs of  the  State  Department  at  Washington 


BANK  OF  FRANCE. 


275 


may  be  found  Benjamin  Franklin's  report  of 
his  visit  to  it.  Later,  in  1776,  Franklin  was  a 
frequent  visitor  for  the  purpose  of  study.  One 
day  at  the  door  he  was  accosted  by  a  man  from 
Brittany,  whose  name  was  Franquelin,  and  who 
was  armed  with  family  papers  which  he  believed 
established  a  relationship  between  him  and  the 
American  minister. 

The  financial  establishments  are  in  keeping 
with  the  other  institutions  of  the  capital,  the 
leading  ones  being  the  Bank  of  France  and 
the  Credit  Lyonnaise.  Mention  has  elsewhere 
been  made  of  the  latter  as  being  located  in  the 
Boulevard  des  Italiens.  The  other,  the  Bank 
of  France,  took  the  place  of  the  Oasis  des 
Comptes  Courants,  and  when  Napoleon  I  estab- 
lished it,  he  also  gave  it  a  home  by  plac- 
ing the  national  building  in  Paris,  known 
as  the  Oratoire,  as  well  as  the  church  that 
formed  part  of  it,  at  the  disposal  of  the  Minist$? 
of  Finances  for  a  new  bank.  It  did  not  long 
remain  in  such  narrow  quarters,  however,  first 
moving  to  an  old  mansion  in  the  Place  de 
Victoires,  and  when  that  became  too  small  for 
its  business,  the  splendid  Hotel  de  Toulouse 
was  purchased.  That  mansion  is  still  its  home, 
although  it  has  been  necessary  to  enlarge  the 


276 


PARIS. 


building  several  times  to  accommodate  tlie  many 
needs  of  tlie  bank. 

The  officials  of  the  institution  are  a  governor 
and  two  under  governors,  all  three  of  whom  are 
lodged  in  sumptuous  apartments  within  the 
walls  of  the  bank,  their  light  and  fuel  being 
also  at  the  expense  of  the  institution.  The 
Board  of  Directors  is  composed  of  fifteen  regents, 
three  censeurs  and  twelve  conseilliers  d'es- 
compte.  Of  all  the  financial  institutions  of  Eu- 
rope, the  Bank  of  France  is  unquestionably  the 
one  which  enjoys  to  the  largest  extent  the  con- 
fidence of  the  Continental  public.  The  annual 
balance  sheet  shows  on  the  average  a  circulation 
of  $642,000,000  in  paper  money,  payable  at 
sight  to  bearer ;  the  same  balance  sheet  shows 
over  $300,000,000  in  gold  and  over  $260,000, 
000  in  silver,  on  hand,  besides  which  there  is 
always  about  $125,000,000  worth  of  commer- 
cial paper  on  deposit  in  the  bank's  vaults  and 
strong  boxes.  The  Bank  of  Prance  is  the  only 
bank  in  the  Republic  that  may  issue  paper 
money. 

It  will  be  seen  that  this  institution  possesses 
a  cash  box  such  as  no  other  country  in  the 
world  can  show.  The  amount  it  had  on  hand 
at  the  time  of  its  last  balance  sheet  was  more 


THE  STOCK  EXCHANGE. 


277 


than  the  combined  accumulations  of  the  banks 
of  England,  Germany,  Italy  and  Austro-Hun- 
gary  at  that  same  period.  Is  it  any  wonder, 
then,  that  the  people  of  Paris  and  of  the  Repub- 
lic should  have  confidence  in  the  bank  of  France, 
presenting  as  it  does  this  unheard-of  phenomena, 
which  practically  seems  impossible,  that  no 
matter  what  happens  its  metallic  resources  can- 
not be  exhausted  ?  The  bank  is  a  private  soci- 
ety, it  is  true,  but  it  is  under  the  guardianship  of 
the  State,  even  while  enjoying  the  management 
of  its  own  proper  interests  under  its  own  share- 
holders. There  are  more  than  twenty-six  thou- 
sand of  them,  and  these  delegate  their  proxies 
to  two  hundred  of  their  own  number  who  man- 
age the  bank.  They  elect  their  own  regent, 
but  the  State  appoints  the  Governor,  who  over- 
sees everything.  Without  his  signature  the 
bank  of  France  cannot  discount  a  paper  worth 
even  as  little  as  ten  dollars.  Placed  between 
two  powers,  the  one  carrying  credit,  the  other 
the  authority  of  the  Government,  the  bank  can, 
in  moments  of  great  need,  furnish  the  State 
with  a  help  which  all  the  banks  in  neighbour- 
ing countries  combined  cannot  furnish  any  other 
country. 

The  Paris  Bourse,  or  stock  exchange,  owns 


278 


PARIS. 


its  own  temple  of  speculation,  a  massive  pile, 
surrounded  exteriorly  by  sixty-six  Corinthian 
columns,  and  crowded  interiorly  by  a  maddened 
throng  who  do  all  their  dealings  through  sixty 
brokers.  The  number  of  people  in  one  way  or 
another  on  the  Bourse  is,  possibly,  two  hundred 
thousand,  but  there  are  only  three-score  men 
who  hold  seats  in  that  famous  house.  They 
are  known  as  "  agents  de  change  "  and  have  the 
exclusive  privilege  of  negotiating  transfers  of 
public  funds  and  the  sole  right  of  buying  and 
selling  securities  of  all  kinds.  The  seat  or 
charge  of  each  agent  de  change  is  worth  from 
$325,000  to  $360,000 ;  the  charge  is  held  for 
life  and  can  be  willed  to  a  son  or  nephew  ;  but 
such  heir  may  only  become  a  member  of  the 
Bourse  by  appointment  of  the  President  of  the 
Republic. 

The  Bourse  opens  at  twelve-thirty  o'clock 
noon,  and  closes  at  three  o'clock  every  day  in 
the  year  except  on  Sundays,  New  Year's  Day, 
Ascension  Day,  July  14  (the  National  holiday), 
Assumption  Day,  All  Saints  Day  and  Christ- 
mas. The  building  is  open  to  all  French 
citizens  in  full  enjoyment  of  their  civil  rights, 
and  to  all  foreigners;  but  women,  and  bank- 
rupts who  have  not  paid  their  creditors  in  full, 


THE  PETITE  BOURSE. 


279 


are  not  allowed  on  the  floor  where  transactions 
are  carried  on,  although  they  may  watch  the 
proceedings  from  the  galleries.  Cash  sales  are 
usually  settled  the  same  day  that  the  order  is 
given.  Speculative  transactions  are  spoken  of 
as  being  a  terme,  and  they  are  always  closed  at 
fixed  dates,  which  in  nearly  all  cases,  are  the 
fifteenth  and  last  day  of  the  month.  Settling 
day  is  called  liquidation ;  when  it  falls  on  a 
Sunday  or  legal  holiday  it  is  advanced  twenty- 
four  hours. 

There  is  another  stock  exchange,  run  by  what 
is  termed  the  coulisse,  where  business  is  con- 
ducted in  the  street,  even  on  the  steps  and 
under  the  portico  of  the  Bourse.  There  is  also 
a  Petite  Bourse  carried  on  after  the  regular 
Bourse  has  closed,  also  a  Bourse  du  Soir,  run 
in  the  evening  by  speculators ;  these  other  ex- 
changes are  infringements  on  the  monopoly  of 
the  agents  de  change,  but  they  do  not  find  it 
to  their  interest  to  interfere  with  them.  As 
long  as  the  transactions  of  the  coulissiers  are 
purely  speculative,  they  can  get  along  without 
the  assistance  of  the  agents,  but  when  a  cash 
sale  is  made,  or  there  is  a  purchase  of  Rentes, 
the  assistance  of  an  agent  de  change  becomes 
necessary. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


A  subterranean  city  beneath  Paris — The  capital  built 
over  a  series  of  chasms — Sewers,  catacombs  and  old 
stone  quarries — Those  who  are  down  in  the  classic 
under-town —  Eight  hundred  miles  of  drains — The 
principle  posed  by  Professor  Pasteur — Essential 
conditions  of  salubrity — Three  main  sewers  and  nu- 
merous secondary  ones — The  Collecteur  d'Asnieres 
— That  of  Marceau  and  that  of  du  Nord — Siphon 
under  the  river — Vegetable  gardens  of  Genevilliers 
— All  telegraph  wires  and  water  pipes  are  in  the 
sewers — How  the  Paris  sewers  are  constructed — 
Immense  amount  of  water  consumed — The  site  of 
Paris,  and  how  the  city  came  up  out  of  it — A  visit 
to  the  Paris  sewers — Banqueting  beneath  the  cap- 
ital— Miles  on  miles  of  catacombs,  and  over  five 
million  human  skulls. 

Beneath  this  brilliant,  intelligent,  hospita- 
ble city  that  we  are  here  dealing  with,  there  is 
a  wonderful  subterranean  city,  and  as  it  is 
necessary  to  see  everything  we  will  now  go 
down  into  the  sewers  and  the  catacombs. 
Babylon  was  a  city  five  times  greater  than 
Paris  is,  but  the  soil  where  her  ruins  lie  scat- 
tered round  about  is  a  perfectly  flat  plain.  If 


A  SUBTERRANEAN  CITY.  281 


Paris  should  happen  to  tumble  into  ruins, 
which  I  hope  may  never  be,  her  soil  would 
present  the  aspect  of  a  corner  of  earth  bristling 
into  mountains  of  debris,  scooped  with  gulfs. 
For,  besides  the  several  hills  on  which  she  so 
proudly  sits,  Paris  is  built  over  a  series  of 
chasms  superincumbent  or  crossing  each  other. 
Sewers,  catacombs,  and  old  stone  quarries  form 
three  under-Parisian  worlds,  unknown,  myste- 
rious, terrifying  sometimes,  and  wherein  are 
unfolded  a  series  of  scenes  that  often  take  on 
an  interest  which  is  both  gloomy  and  fantastic. 

Down  there  live  in  peace  or  at  war,  some- 
thing after  the  manner  of  mankind,  an  ex- 
tremely variegated,  strange  and  unexpected 
fauna,  such  as  rats,  cats  that  have  "gone 
astray,"  moles,  bats,  lizards,  toads  and  numer- 
ous other  things  and  creatures  of  the  insect, 
reptile,  and  animal  kingdoms.  There  are  men, 
too,  sewer  labourers,  city  engineers,  custom 
house  officers,  and  vagabonds.  Moreover, 
there  are  tourists  who  occasionally  promenade 
in  this  classic  under-town  while  " studying" 
Europe ;  and  yet  what  is  the  short  bit  of  canal- 
isation shown  to  them,  compared  to  the  eight 
hundred  miles  of  subterranean  drains  that  are 
actually  underlying  the  capital  ?  and  what  is 


282 


PARIS. 


the  short  space  of  prepared  "  catacombs "  ex- 
hibited to  passing  travellers,  alongside  of  the 
immensity  of  real  catacombs  beneath  Paris 
which  are  never  opened  to  public  view  ?  In 
this  lower  and  obscure  city  many  a  being  who 
went  down  merely  to  look  from  curiosity  has 
remained  to  die,  being  lost  forever  in  its  dark 
labyrinths. 

This  immense  subterranean  Paris  is  a  second 
city  under  a  capital  which  all  the  world  ad- 
mires, and  in  it,  besides  the  living  and  the  dead 
creatures,  many  kinds  of  apparatus  are  concen- 
trated. Under  gloomy  vaults  run  masses  of 
water  pipes,  wires  for  telephones,  electric  light- 
ing conduits,  telegraph  lines,  pneumatic  tubes 
for  working  street  and  office  clocks,  or  for 
sending  written  messages,  etc.  These  cross  and 
recross  each  other,  forming  thus  an  enormous 
network  of  iron  and  pottery  that  is  apparently 
without  beginning  and  without  end.  Below 
this  net  of  pipes,  tubes  and  wires,  under  the 
arched  roofs  of  big  and  little  sewers,  slowly 
descends  a  heavy  flow  of  water  that  has  no  re- 
flex and  is  without  noise.  On  the  right  or  on 
the  left  side  of  each  of  these  canals  is  a  trottoir 
or  walk,  and  this  labyrinth  is,  strange  to  say, 
as  clean  as  it  is  mysterious.    Indeed,  the  streets 


SEWERS  AND  CATACOMBS.  283 


of  Paris  themselves,  noted  the  world  over  for 
their  cleanliness  and  good  condition,  are  dirty 
and  muddy  when  compared  with  most  of  these 
underground  passages. 

The  principle  posed  by  the  late  Professor 
Pasteur,  one  of  the  grandest  geniuses  and 
greatest  benefactors  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
"  Quel  que  soit  l'etat  de  misere  physiologique 
de  Torganisme,  il  ne  peut  pas  cr6er  une  mal- 
adie;  la  maladie  vient  du  dehors  et  est  pro- 
duite  par  des  germes  " — is  no  longer  contested 
in  Paris.  To  guarantee  the  human  body, 
whether  it  be  robust  or  weak,  it  is  necessary  to 
get  rid  of  all  the  pathogenic  microbes  which 
swarm  in  cities,  especially  in  all  the  material 
used  for  living  purposes.  To  do  this  it  is  ob- 
ligatory that  these  materials  must  be  removed 
promptly  before  putrefaction  sets  in,  and  this  is 
done,  as  a  rule,  by  an  arrangement  of  subter- 
ranean drains  which  convey  the  filth  and  slops 
(ordures)  to  a  place  chosen  afar  off.  This  is 
done  more  completely  and  satisfactorily  in  Paris 
than  it  is  in  any  other  city,  all  the  underground 
canals  called  sewers  being  transformed  into  a 
real  tributary,  the  waters  of  which,  pushed 
along  by  machinery  invented  for  that  purpose 
having  a  drainage  toward  the  sea  of  one  hun- 


284 


PARIS, 


clred  and  forty  million  cubic  metres  of  liquid 
matter. 

In  every  modern  city,  no  matter  where  situ- 
ated or  what  its  size,  one  of  the  essential  con- 
ditions of  salubrity  is  the  rapid  evacuation  of 
all  kinds  of  debris  such  as  surface  waters, 
household  slops,  excrementitous  matter,  dust, 
etc.  This  problem,  most  arduous  where  there 
is  no  sea  to  help,  with  its  strong  flow  of  tides, 
in  the  cleansing  work,  was  one  that  presented 
particular  difficulties  at  Paris  by  reason  of  its 
large  population,  and  because  of  the  precau- 
tions which  had  to  be  taken  not  to  break  in  on 
the  old  galleries  that  are  under  so  much  of  the 
capital.  The  system  of  sewers  now  in  general 
use  was  planned  by  Belgrand  in  1854,  and  his 
"  collectors "  all  empty  into  the  Seine,  far 
down  the  river.  This  system,  execution  of 
which  was  begun  in  1860,  was  interrupted  by 
the  war  of  1870,  but  it  was  resumed  in  1881, 
with  important  improvements  and  is  now 
universal  throughout  Paris.  In  1895  the  gal- 
leries of  all  kinds  totalled  one  million  three 
hundred  thousand  meters  (over  eight  hundred 
miles),  and  the  public  sewers  alone  were  six 
hundred  miles  long.  They  had  much  more 
than  doubled  inside  of  twenty-five  years,  as 


THE  GENERAL  COLLECTORS.  285 


they  have  also  been  improved  in  almost  every 
particular.  The  money  devoted  to  the  salubri- 
ous work  of  sewerage  during  this  short  period 
has  amounted  to  about  eleven  million  of 
dollars,  not  including  certain  accessory  expenses 
and  wages  shared  with  the  Water  Department 
of  the  French  capital. 

This  evacuation  system  of  Paris  is  composed 
of  three  general  collectors  and  an  ensemble 
of  secondary  collectors  which  carry  off  all  the 
waters  coming  from  tributary  galleries.  The 
first  general  collector  at  the  right  hand  side 
of  the  river,  and  known  as  the  Collecteur  d'As- 
nieres1  follows  the  line  of  the  quays,  or  river 
embankments,  from  the  arsenal  basin  to  the 
Place  de  la  Concorde,  which  it  crosses,  goes 
up  the  Pue  Poyale  and  the  Boulevard  Male- 
sherbes,  passes,  subterranean,  under  the  hill  of 
Monceau,  follows  the  road  to  Asnieres  and 
empties  into  the  Seine  at  the  village  of  Clichy, 
a  distance  of  seven  miles  from  its  starting 
point.  The  cunette  or  canal  of  the  main  sewer 
is  eleven  feet  four  inches  wide  by  four  feet 
four  inches  in  depth,  and  its  vaulted  roof  is 
formed  of  a  demi-ellipse,  the  grand  axis  of 

1  This  great  conduct  can  be  compared  only  to  the 
Cloaca  Maxima  of  Ancient  Rome. 


286 


PAEIS. 


which,  situated  at  one  metre  and  five  centime- 
tres above  the  "  banquettes  "  is  five  metres  and 
sixty  centimetres,  or  say  eighteen  feet  and  two 
inches,  and  the  small  axis  is  at  two  metres. 
These  banquettes,  or  sidings  are  ninety  centime- 
tres wide. 

The  second  collector  or  main  sewer  is  on 
the  left  side  of  the  river  and  is  called  the 
Collecteur  Marceau.  It  leaves  the  Boulevard 
Saint  Marcel,  follows  the  Rue  Geoffroy  Saint 
Hilaire,  where  it  receives  the  waters  of  the 
Bievre,  the  Rue  de  Jussieu,  the  Rue  des 
Ecoles,  Rue  Monge,  Boulevards  St.  Germain 
and  St.  Michel,  line  of  the  quays,  passes  by 
siphon  under  the  Seine,1  and  by  subterranean 
passage  under  the  Avenue  Marceau,  the  Place 
de  r^toile  (Arc  de  Triomphe),  Avenue  Wa- 
gram,  Rue  de  Courcelles,  Place  Periere,  and, 

i  The  siphon  under  the  river  at  the  Pont  de  l'Alma  is 
composed  of  two  sheet  iron  tubes,  each  one  metre 
(thirty-nine  inches)  in  diameter  interiorly,  and  the 
rivets  and  holes  holding  these  irons  together  are 
finished  so  as  to  make  them  perfectly  smooth.  At  the 
bottom  of  the  Seine  these  two  tubes  are  laid  on  a  bed 
of  concrete  forty  centimetres  (fifteen  and  three  fourth 
inches)  thick,  and  they  are  also  covered  with  a  heavy 
coating  of  this  same  material. 


THE  COLLECTEUR  DU  NOKD.  287 


after  leaving  Paris,  goes  under  the  streets  in 
Levallois  Perret  to  discharge  finally  into  the 
Collecteur  d'Asnieres  a  little  above  the  latter's 
mouth.  Meanwhile  it  gathers  in  the  waters  of 
a  surface  of  two  thousand  three  hundred  and 
four  hectares  on  the  left  side  of  the  river  and  of 
eight  hundred  and  five  hectares  on  the  right, 
or  in  all  about  six  thousand  two  hundred  and 
fifty  acres  as  against  five  thousand  three  hun- 
dred acres  drained  by  the  other  main  already 
mentioned.  The  length  of  this  second  one  is 
also  about  seven  miles. 

Finally  we  have  the  Collecteur  du  Nord  the 
purpose  of  which  was  to  give  a  flow  to  the  waters 
of  the  hills  on  the  right  side  of  the  Seine  which 
often  descends  in  torrents  and  inundates  large 
parts  of  the  ninth,  tenth  and  eleventh  wards. 
This  main  sewer  departs  from  the  cemetery  of 
Pere  La  Chaise,  follows  the  exterior  boulevard 
(turning  the  Buttes  Chaumont),  and  the  Rue 
d'Allemagne,  cr.osses  the  canal  and  a  part  of 
La  Vilette  and  of  La  Chapelle,  leaves  the  city 
by  the  Porte  de  la  Chapelle  and  goes  toward 
Saint  Denis  where  it  empties  into  the  River 
Seine.  But  this  result  is  not  true  of  the  present 
moment.  Now  its  waters  are  almost  all  carried 
off  by  a  gallery  of  derivation  that  conducts 


288 


PARIS, 


them  to  Genevilliers. 1  The  length  of  this 
northern  main  inside  and  outside  of  the  city  is 
over  seven  miles  and  a  half.  These  three  mains, 
whose  combined  length  is  therefore  more  than 
twenty-one  miles,  are  by  no  means  the  only 
main  sewers,  as  we  understand  the  expression, 
in  Paris,  for  they  are  fed  by  seventeen  secondary 
ones  which  themselves  receive  the  waters  of 
other  mains  that  connect  with  the  different 

1  Irrigation  of  the  lands  near  Genevilliers  commenced 
in  1872.  The  sewage  used  comes  from  different  col- 
lectors. That  part  of  it  from  the  great  collecting 
sewer  of  the  north  is  taken  just  before  it  reaches  the 
river,  carried  across  by  means  of  one  of  the  bridges 
and  conveyed  thence  by  trenches.  Being  drawn  from 
the  hilly  parts  of  Paris,  it  is  able  to  follow  naturally 
the  slope  of  the  ground  to  its  destination.  The  part  of 
it  taken  from  the  Asnieres  collector,  on  the  contrary, 
has  to  be  raised  at  Clichy  into  a  sort  of  gallery  or 
reservoir,  whence  it  is  taken  in  a  cast-iron  conduit 
three  feet  seven  inches  in  diameter  and  conveyed  across 
the  river  at  the  Pont  de  Clichy.  It  passes  under  the 
sidewalks  of  the  bridge  and  empties  its  contents  into  a 
conduit  of  masonry,  which  conveys  it  to  the  irrigated 
lands.  Arriving  at  its  destination,  it  is  elaborately 
distributed  over  the  plain  by  a  network  of  ditches. 
The  water,  having  deposited  its  fertilizing  matter,  is 
carried  off  into  the  Seine  by  a  complicated  system  of 
drainage  pipes  which  have  an  aggregate  length  of  nearly 
five  miles.    The  amount  of  land  irrigated  had  increased 


MANNER  OF  CONSTRUCTION. 


289 


quarters  where  smaller  galleries  run  their 
course. 

Another  thing,  these  inferior  mains,  also  hold 
the  water  pipes,  and  besides  they  contain  all 
the  arteries  for  telephonic  and  telegraphic  cor- 
respondence, the  pneumatic  tubes,  by  means  of 
which  written  messages  are  sent,  the  pipes  for 
compressed  air  that  move  the  hands  of  public 
clocks  in  the  thoroughfares  of  Paris,  etc.  The 
great  advantage  which  the  system  has  over 
that  in  other  cities  will  be  recognised  at  once; 
it  does  away  with  aerian  lines  of  wires  for  the 
transmission  of  electricity  and  thus  the  danger, 
in  case  of  storms,  the  breaking  of  wires,  the 

from  one  hundred  and  twenty-eight  acres  in  1872  to 
sixteen  hundred  and  thirty  acres  at  the  end  of  1890. 
The  ground  rent  had  increased  during  the  same  time 
from  $18  to  $30  the  hectare,  two  and  one-half  acres, 
up  to  as  high  as  $2,400  the  hectare,  and  some  land  has 
been  sold  as  high  as  $4,500  the  hectare.  The  product 
per  hectare  lias  been  forty  thousand  heads  of  cabbage, 
or  sixty  thousand  artichokes,  or  two  hundred  thousand 
pounds  of  beets,  while  eight  hundred  cows  have  been 
nourished  by  the  aid  of  the  herbs  and  plants  irrigated. 
The  report  of  the  engineers  say  that  from  the  standpoint 
of  health  the  irrigated  lands  leave  nothing  to  be  desired. 
Cultivators  who  came  to  rent  the  land  increased  the 
population  of  Genevilliers  thirty-four  per  cent  from 
1874  to  1890. 


290 


PAEIS. 


inconveniences  due  to  vibration,  etc.,  is  almost 
wholly  escaped. 

The  manner  of  constructing  these  Paris  sewers 
is  easily  explained.  Formerly  the  foundation 
was  made  of  blocks  of  stone.  Now  the  ground 
is  carefully  prepared  and  there  is  laid  on  it  a 
thick  layer  of  concrete,  like  that  used  in  pav- 
ing the  streets,  as  a  bed  for  the  stone,  wood  or 
asphalt.  On  this  reposes  the  massive  masonry 
which  forms  the  sewer.  Every  collecting  sewer 
is  supposed  to  comprise  two  parts ;  the  cunette 
to  which  the  water  is  confined  in  dry  weather, 
and  the  gallery — that  is  all  the  rest  of  the  sewer, 
which  is  made  large  enough  to  permit  the 
working  men  to  circulate  freely.  The  small 
sewers  connecting  with  the  houses  or  the  side- 
walks and  gutters  are  also  called  galleries. 
Some  of  the  smaller  sewers  have  dinettes,  the 
water  flowing  along  the  curved  bottom.  The 
curving  bottom,  even  for  the  ciinettes,  is  pre- 
ferred by  the  engineers  as  tending  to  greater 
cleanliness,  especially  when  the  flow  is  slight, 
the  stream  being  always  kept  in  the  middle  and 
all  impurities  tending  toward  it.  The  ovoid 
form  is  everywhere  acknowledged  to  be  the 
strongest,  and  is  almost  universal  in  all  the 
smaller  sewers  recently  constructed.  Formerly 


VAKYING  DIMENSIONS. 


291 


cut  stone  was  entirely  used.  Then  the  lower 
part  of  the  sewer  (cunette)  and  part  of  the  walls 
of  the  gallery  were  made  of  cut  stone  and  the 
upper  part  of  the  gallery  of  the  light  and  por- 
ous nieuliere,  filled  in  with  hydraulic  lime  made 
into  a  concrete.  To  render  the  inner  surface  as 
smooth  as  possible  it  is  usually  covered  with  a 
coating  of  hydraulic  lime.  The  general  collec- 
tor, that  has  been  compared  to  the  ancient 
Cloaca  Maxima,  was  thus  built  of  stone  set 
in  hydraulic  cement,  except  where  it  was  con- 
structed by  tunneling,  where  ordinary  cement 
was  substituted. 

All  the  sewers  of  the  Paris  system  are  divided 
into  fifteen  classes  the  dimensions  of  which  vary 
from  those  of  the  great  Collecteur  d'Asnieres, 
and  which  is  known  as  class  number  one,  to 
ovidal  sewers  two  metres  thirty  centimetres 
high,  and  one  metre  thirty  centimetres  wide  at 
the  widest  point,  known  as  class  number  fifteen, 
and  which  connect  each  house  with  the  main 
sewers.  These  are  cut  off  from  the  house  by 
means  of  an  iron  grating  fastened  by  two  dif- 
ferent locks,  the  key  of  one  being  in  the  posses- 
sion of  the  city  authorities,  the  other  in  the 
hands  of  the  owner  of  the  building,  and  about 
every  one  hundred  and  sixty-five  feet  there  is  a 


292 


PARIS. 


chiminee  de  descent,  or  manhole.  As  is  well 
known,  the  usefulness  of  sewers  does  not  con- 
sist merely  in  letting  detritus  run  into  them 
from  kitchen  tanks,  closets,  and  other  places, 
for  such  "  drippings"  would  soon  choke  up  the 
flow  of  waters  if  they  were  left  to  settle  at  the 
bottom  of  the  canals,  hence  a  constant  working 
of  them  is  absolutely  necessary.  In  Paris  this 
is  called  the  enrage,  that  is  to  say,  the  action 
of  cleansing,  and  the  importance  of  this  work 
will  be  recognised  when  it  is  recalled  that  the 
actual  development  of  the  galleries  to  be  kept 
cleaned  reaches  the  formidable  figure  of  eight 
hundred  miles  in  total  length.  The  enrage  is 
accomplished  by  an  ingenious  arrangement 
called  a  batean-vanne,  and  these  are  boats  or 
carts,  at  the  front  of  each  of  which  is  fixed  a 
shield  having  the  exact  dimensions  and  shape  of 
that  portion  of  the  sewer  through  which  the 
water  flows.  The  shields  or  flood-gates  are 
pierced  with  holes  large  enough  to  permit 
water  to  force  itself  through,  but  small  enough 
to  check  more  solid  matter,  and  as  the  boats  go 
down  stream  in  the  canals  all  solid  accumula- 
tions are  pushed  along  in  front  of  the  vanne. 

It  may  be  stated  en  passan  t  that  it  is  on  these 
boats  that  visitors  are  taken  through  a  small 


CUBAGE  OF  BATEAU  VANNES.  293 


part  of  the  Paris  sewers.  Boats  are  used  in  the 
main  conductors ;  in  the  smaller  ones  the  work 
is  done  by  cars  running  on  rails  set  on  each 
side  the  canal,  and  which  of  course  are  also 
supplied  with  vannes.  In  the  smallest  sewers 
all  the  cleansing  process  is  accomplished  by  men, 
who,  wearing  stout  leather  boots,  with  leggings 
that  come  up  to  the  thigh,  and  armed  with 
brooms,  sweep  them  out  at  frequent  intervals. 
In  the  "  mains  "  that  have  a  cunette  depth  of 
three  metres  fifty  centimetres  and  a  width  of 
two  metres  twenty  centimetres,  boats  are  used, 
while  in  those  where  the  dinettes  are  no  more 
than  thirty  centimetres  to  one  metre  twenty 
centimetres,  rails  are  laid  down  on  which  trucks 
roll  or  wagons  circulate.  The  flood-gates  in  the 
front  part  of  the  boats  or  carts  are  lowered  into 
the  current,  and  the  body  of  water  which  forms 
before  them  makes  an  energetic  wash  when  the 
vehicles  move  quickly.  A  great  deal  of  sand 
gets  into  the  Paris  sewers.  The  streets  are 
being  constantly  strewn  with  sand  and  gravel 
as  protection  for  horses'  hoofs  against  slipping, 
and  most  of  this  sand  finds  its  way  into  the 
sewers.  But  it  is  not  difficult  to  get  rid  of  it 
as  it  is  all  pushed  forward  with  the  boat  or 
wagon.      The  quantity  of  sand  has  greatly 


294 


PARIS. 


diminished,  however,  since  the  introduction  of 
wooden  pavements.  Moreover  of  recent  years, 
it  has  been  customary  to  supply  certain  sewer 
mouths  with  sheet  iron  baskets  pierced  with 
holes  intended  to  let  the  water  through  but 
which  are  fine  enough  to  catch  the  roadway  sand, 
all  manure^  the  vegetable  detritus  of  the  Halles 
Centrales  or  other  large  markets,  etc.,  etc.  As 
all  the  different  galleries  are  easy  of  access  to 
men,  boats  and  cars,  as  the  mechanical  means 
are  as  simple  as  they  are  effective,  and  as  the 
mouths  or  emptying  ends  of  the  collectors  are 
large  enough,  a  continuous  movement  of  the 
fluid  and  materials  in  the  Canals  i£  insured 
throughout  the  entire  system,  and  stagnation, 
always  fatally  accompanied  by  fermentation 
and  infection,  is  completely  guarded  against. 

The  amount  of  water  consumed  by  the  city 
of  Paris  and  the  people  is  immense.  The 
streets  are  washed  daily  through  a  great  part  of 
the  year.  The  public  fountains  are  innumer- 
able. There  were  formerly  numerous  springs 
in  the  hillsides,  and  there  are  also  two  streams 
of  importance — the  creek  Menilmontant  and 
the  brook  of  the  Bievre.  This  last  rises  in 
a  pond,  not  a  great  distance  from  Versailles 
and  enters  Paris  at    Gentilly  on  the  south 


THE  MENILMONTANT. 


295 


side.  It  is  twenty-six  miles  long.  When 
swollen  by  rains  it  is  the  means  of  conveying  a 
considerable  amount  of  water  into  the  collecting 
sewer  that  is  obliged  to  receive  it.  This  stream 
is  walled  for  a  part  of  its  course  within  the 
city.  In  some  places,  it  is  covered,  while  else- 
where, for  a  short  distance,  it  flows  between 
natural  banks.  The  Menilmontant,  which  has 
lost  most  of  its  original  volume,  was  also  gradu- 
ally turned  into  a  collecting  sewer. 

The  only  large  area  of  the  city  which  cannot 
be  conveniently  drained  into  the  Collector 
Menilmontant,  the  Collector  Marceau  or  the 
Collector  Asnieres,  all  of  wrhich  are  finally  ad- 
mitted into  one  sewer  and  empty  into  the  river 
near  Asnieres,  is  the  Northeastern  district, 
whose  drainage  is  collected  into  an  indepen- 
dent collecting  sewer  that  empties  into  the 
Seine  near  St.  Denis.  To  give  an  idea  of  the 
quantity  of  water  which  these  sewers  receive  I 
will  state  here  that  between  the  River  Seine 
and  the  Place  Periere  the  Collecteur  Marceau 
carries  an  average  of  one  hundred  and  ten 
thousand  cubic  metres.  Of  course  this  amount 
is  considerably  increased  during  rain  storms, 
and  sometimes  the  waters  rise  up  to  the  summit 
of  the  arch.    On  these  occasions  the  main 


29G 


PARIS. 


sewer  leading  to  Asnieres  empties  more  than 
twenty-five  fcubic  metres  every  second.  The 
flow  varies  according  to  time  of  year  and  time 
of  day  or  night.  It  reaches  its  average  maxi- 
mum at  six  o'clock  in  the  evening,  and  it  des- 
cends to  the  minimum  about  four  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  It  is  evident  that  these  variations 
depend  largely  on  the  habits  of  domestic  life, 
and  at  certain  hours  some  of  the  lesser  sewers 
are  quite  empty  of  water. 

Until  the  year  1882  only  the  water  of  the 
sewers  was  used  for  sewer  purposes,  but  in 
that  year  the  city  authorities  began  to  substi- 
tute purer  water  for  the  dirty  sluices,  this  by 
establishing  reservoirs  of  from  eight  to  ten 
cubic  metres  capacity  in  the  sewers.  Indeed 
no  sewers  are  built  now  in  Paris  but  which  are 
supplied  with  these  reservoirs,  and  they  have 
also  been  placed  in  nearly  all  the  old  ones. 
They  are  placed,  now  at  the  point  of  depart  of 
a  sewer,  now  at  its  highest  point,  now  at  the 
top  of  a  sewer  which  has  two  branches,  and  now 
at  the  crossing  of  the  galleries,  so  that  it  can 
be  made  to  flow  in  two  directions.  These  res- 
ervoirs are  filled  sufficiently  often  to  give  two 
or  three  cleansings  daily,  and  this  cleansing 
and  keeping  in  repair  of  the  Paris  sewers  costs 
about  $480,000  annually. 


SITE  OF  THE  CITY. 


297 


The  laying  out  of  the  principal  subterranean 
arteries  provided  for  by  this  system  of  canalis- 
ation had  to  be  determined  by  the  shape  and 
nature  of  the  soil,  therefore  it  is  well  to  know 
something  of  the  configuration  o£  Paris.  The 
city  occupies  a  broad  deep  basin,1  nearly  five 
miles  in  breadth  from  North  to  South  and  ex- 
tending about  eight  miles  along  both  banks  of 
the  River  Seine  from  the  East  westward.  On  all 
sides  are  hills,  woods  and  farming  suburban 
lands  that  slope  toward  the  town,  and  from  any 
of  these  overlooking  eminences  a  splendid  view 
is  obtained  of  the  beautiful  capital.  And  es- 
pecially grand  this  urban  panorama  when  seen 
from  the  top  of  Montmartre,  from  the  heights 
of  the  Buttes  Chaumont,  or,  better  still,  per- 
haps, from  the  colline  of  St.  Cloud  and  its 
adjacent  hill  of  Meudon.  On  the  right  bank 
of  the  river  the  heights  of  Belleville,  at  the  ex- 
treme East  of  town,  form,  between  the  Faubourg 
St.  Antoine  and  that  of  the  Temple,  a  hilly 
chain  of  some  relief  which,  from  the  barrier  of 
Amandiers,  dies  off  at  the  bottom  of  the  Rue 
Meslay,  the  buttes  of  the  Bonne  Nouvelle  and 

1 "  Le  basin  de  Paris  est  le  centre  attractiff,  comme  le 
plateau  central  est  le  centre  repulsif"  says  M.  de  Beau- 
mont in  his  "  Description  Geologique  de  la  France." 


298 


PARIS. 


of  the  Moulins  being,  so  to  speak,  the  last 
ripples.  To  the  Southeast  of  these  montacles, 
and  extending  toward  the  river,  is  a  wide  plain 
forming  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine,  and  the 
Marais.  To-  the  Northeast,  at  the  foot  of  the 
Buttes  Chaumont  and  the  Hill  of  Montmartre, 
there  opens  a  valley  which  spreads  to  the  River 
Seine.  On  the  West  the  hillock  Beaujon  and 
that  of  Chaillot,  prolongation  of  the  Buttes 
Montmartre  (from  which  they  are  separated  by 
the  Plain  of  Monceau),  closes  this  dingle. 

The  left  side  of  the  city  is  divided  by  the 
mountain  or  hill  of  Sainte  Genevieve  and  the 
smaller  hill  on  which  stands  the  Church  of 
Saint  Germain  des  Pres  into  three  such  dales  or 
valleys.  The  creek  called  Bievre,  elsewhere 
spoken  of  as  famous  for  its  tanneries,  and 
where  the  best  French  kip  and  other  fine 
leathers  are  made,  flows  at  the  bottom  of  one  of 
these  valleys. 

Another  thing,  Paris,  with  all  its  splendid 
monuments,  has  come  up,  almost  entirely  out 
of  its  own  site.  When  constructing  the  earth, 
or  when  re-forming  it,  the  Supreme  Architect 
of  the  Universe  put  a  profusion  of  different  and 
excellent  building  materials  in  the  ground 
where  Paris  now  stands,  and  in  the  subsequent 


IT  STANDS  ON  A  DEEP  GULF.  299 


epoch,  when  a  city  started  into  existence,  man 
had  only  to  stretch  forth  his  hands  and  dig  up 
all  that  was  wanted  to  make  the  town.  Here 
was  rock  for  massive  buildings  ;  there  a  stone 
of  finer  grain,  which  would  receive  the  most 
delicate  sculpture  on  its  face;  further  on  a 
heavier  sort  that  would  do  for  rubble  work, 
while  next  to  it  was  a  kind  of  millstone  which 
makes  the  best  of  foundations,  walls  and  arches ; 
near  by  was  sandstone  for  street  pavements ; 
and  finally  there  were  hard  flint  rocks  with 
which  to  strew  the  roads. 

It  was  because  so  much  of  this  stone  was 
used  in  building  the  old  Paris  of  ages  gone  that 
modern  Paris  now  stands,  so  to  speak,  over  the 
gulfs  and  chasms  thus  excavated.  All  the  stone 
quarries  which  furnished  material  for  the  con- 
struction of  the  city  during  twenty  centuries 
are  now  within  the  walls  of  Paris.  Those 
immense  excavations,  from  whence  millions  of 
tons  of  building  stones  were  dug  during  almost 
countless  years  are  beneath  the  city  now. 
These  are  enormous  openings ;  in  numerous 
places  they  are  two  stories  high ;  gulf  on  gulf. 
The  Luxembourg  palace  with  its  splendid  park, 
the  Observatory,  the  Pantheon ?  the  Theatre  de 
l7Odeon — churches,  houses,  streets,  gardens,  etc., 


300 


PARIS. 


all  stand  on  and  above  the  tremendous  gulfs  of 
the  long-since  abandoned  stone-pits  and  quarries 
which,  to-day  are  spoken  of,  and  visited  as  the 
Paris  catacombs. 

It  has  already  been  declared  that  the  cleanest 
city  in  the  world  is  also  attractive  and  clean 
underneath  its  cellars.  The  visit  made  to  the 
sewers  of  Paris  by  Bruneseau,  as  told  by  Vic- 
tor Hugo,  was  "  a  nocturnal  battle  against  the 
pest  and  asphyxia,"  but  there  is  nothing  of 
that  sort  in  the  subterranean  capital  now-a-days. 
The  sewer  sidewalks  are  clean,  there  are  no 
stagnant  germs  to  destroy  human  health  and 
there  are  electric  lights,  oil  lamps  and  coloured 
lanterns  to  illume  the  subterranean  town. 
Moreover  there  is  an  army  of  labourers  clad  in 
white,  and  there  are  open  cars  with  brass  finish- 
ings, boats  that  float  on  a  sort  of  Stygian 
stream,  with  endless  tunnels  reaching  away  in 
every  direction.  Once  upon  a  time  the  Paris 
Press,  always  prompt  and  earnest  in  works  of 
charity,  organised  a  fete  for  the  benefit  of  suf- 
ferers by  a  terrible  calamity  in  a  foreign  but 
neighbouring  state,  and  the  programme  included 
a  visit  to  the  sewers,  or,  as  the  wits  expressed 
it,  "an  excursion  into  the  land  of  rats." 

We  assembled  in  a  tent  on  the  square  close 


IN  THE  LAND  OF  RATS. 


301 


by  the  Church  of  the  Madeleine,  where  there  is 
a  flower  market  every  Tuesday  and  Friday,  and 
there  we  descended  by  a  winding  flight  of  stone 
steps,  in  groups  of  ten  at  a  time,  down  into  a 
main  sewer,  that  of  the  Collecteur  d'Asnieres. 
Usually  when  people  are  taken  through  these 
subterranean  canals  the  guides  carry  a  few 
torches  and  nothing  is  seen  except  what  is 
included  within  the  zone  of  that  rather  uncer- 
tain light.  But  on  this  particular  afternoon  the 
entire  length  of  the  sewers  visited  was  bril- 
liantly and  gaily  illuminated.  Chinese  lanterns 
hung  in  festoons  from  vaulted  roofs,  and  vines 
of  electric  flowers  sparkled  along  the  side  walls. 
At  frequent  intervals  stood  men,  statue-like 
holding  lighted  torches,  while  coloured  fires 
floated  here  and  there  in  the  waters  of  the  gal- 
leries. It  was  a  wonderful  sight  in  all  partic- 
ulars, and  as  we  passed  through  the  strangely 
brilliant  underworld  the  rumbling  of  wheels 
and  the  sounds  of  the  city  was  dimly  heard, 
but  it  was  not  a  noise  of  overhead,  it  seemed 
to  come  from  around  and  under  us.  In  places 
we  could  see  ahead  for  several  hundred  yards 
while  we  could  look  back,  into  the  shining 
colours,  quite  as  far.  Then  when  we  came  to 
junctions  our  eyes  were  interested  in  four  or 


302 


PAKIS. 


five  different  directions  almost  simultaneously. 
There  were  no  such  smells  as  might  be  imag- 
ined of  a  sewer,  but  there  was  excessive  damp- 
ness. It  could  be  seen  as  well  as  felt;  the 
walls  and  ceilings  were  literally  dripping  with 
the  moisture  that  was  being  generated  by  the 
unusual  warmth  produced  by  so  many  lights. 
At  our  feet,  between  banks  of  solid  masonry, 
flowed  a  sluggish  stream  and  along  each  bank 
there  ran  level  ways  that  seemed  like  sidewalks. 
Over  these,  but  close  to  the  walls,  were  earthen 
and  iron  pipes  strung  on  stout  hooks.  The 
largest  cast-iron  pipes  were  conduits  bringing 
pure  water  into  the  city  above  for  drinking  and 
domestic  purposes.  The  telegraph  and  tele- 
phone wires  were  of  copper,  insulated,  and 
enclosed  in  leaden  pipes,  but  the  pneumatic 
tubes  were  of  cast  iron,  etc. 

Floating  on  the  surface  of  this  Styx  were  a 
number  of  flat-bottomed  boats,  on  which  we 
were  invited  to  take  seats,  and  when  we  had 
done  so  a  burst  of  music  suddenly  filled  the 
tunnel  world  about  us.  It  was  more  than  an 
excellent  melody  of  sounds,  it  was  the  tuned 
outburst  of  joyous  welcome  from  the  band  of 
the  Garde  Republicaine.  The  music  sounded 
well,  although  now  and  then,  in  the  louder 


A  PICTURESQUE  SCENE. 


303 


parts  some  weird  echoes  were  awakened.  The 
band  was  on  a  barge  some  distance  ahead  of 
us,  and  when  all  of  us  had  embarked  it  led  the 
way.  Each  boat  was  towed  against  the  slow 
current  by  ten  men  wearing  white  canvas 
blouses  and  overalls,  who  walked  at  a  brisk 
pace  along  the  banks.  When  we  reached  the 
"  Station  "  under  the  Place  de  la  Concorde,  we 
got  out  of  the  boats  and  clambered  on  to  cars 
that  ran  into  another  sewer.  This  sewer  was 
beneath  the  Rue  de  Rivoli,  and  as  we  ascended 
it  we  came  every  now  and  then  to  still  smaller 
ones,  at  the  entrance  to  each  of  which  was  a 
name — Rue  Cambon,  Rue  de  la  Paix,  etc., — 
a  duplicate  of  that  of  the  streets  under  which 
these  sewers  passed.  The  collector  of  the  Rue 
de  Rivoli  was  not  only  as  brilliantly  illumi- 
nated as  the  first  one  entered,  but  each  of  these 
smaller  conduits  were  hung  with  coloured 
lights.  The  effect  was  quite  picturesque,  es- 
pecially so  at  points  where  cascades  of  water 
were  flowing  down  from  the  streets  above 
through  the  grated  inlets.  And  meanwhile  all 
kinds  of  garbage  and  refuse  was  floating  in  the 
black  water  under  us,  but  so  well  ventilated 
are  these  subterranean  galleries  that  no  disa- 
greeable odour  was  encountered  anywhere. 


304 


PARIS. 


By  and  by  we  reached  a  point  where  several 
sewers  met,  and  here  we  found  the  walls  dec- 
orated with  trophies  formed  by  the  tools  used 
in  caring  for  this  underworld.  There  were  flags, 
too,  moreover  the  place  was  brilliantly  illumi- 
nated, and  here  a  banquet  was  given.  On  a 
number  of  small  tables  was  food  and  wine,  hot 
coffee,  cigars,  and  fine  liqueurs.  The  food  con- 
sisted mainly  of  cooked  vegetables :  carrots, 
potatoes,  peas,  and  beans,  which  had  all  been 
grown  at  Gennevilliers,  on  a  tract  of  land 
which,  until  it  had  been  richly  irrigated  with 
waters  from  the  Paris  sewers  was  a  barren 
waste.  Then,  when  we  had  finished  our  feast, 
cigars  were  lighted,  we  got  on  to  the  cars  again 
and  bade  good-bye  to  the  Place  de  la  Chatelet. 
Now  our  course  ran  under  the  Boulevard  Se- 
bastopol  and  the  Boulevard  du  Strasbourg, 
until  finally  we  came  to  a  place  near  the  rail- 
way station  known  as  the  Gare  de  TEst  and 
there,  almost  in  front  of  the  Church  of  Saint 
Laurent,  we  came  up  into  the  city  once  more. 
Meanwhile,  we  had  passed  under  many  of  the 
most  busy  thoroughfares  of  Paris,  including 
that  of  the  Boulevard  St.  Denis,  or  rather 
where  that  boulevard  and  that  of  St.  Martin 
join,  and  in  all,  from  the  Madeleine  to  Saint 


FEAR  OF  COMMUNISM. 


305 


Laurent,  we  had  travelled  for  at  least  five 
miles  in  the  galleries  of  the  Paris  eg  outs. 

On  another  occasion,  the  writer  went  down 
into  the  sewers  disguised  as  a  workman  em- 
ployed by  the  city,  wearing  a  large  pair  of  rub- 
ber boots,  some  old  cotton  trousers  and  a  white 
blouse,  and  carrying  a  rather  heavy  lantern. 
We  should  have  been  lost  without  our  lanterns, 
for  the  openings  connected  with  the  gutters 
above  let  in  but  a  feeble  glimmer,  and  even 
with  lighted  lamps  our  way  was  rather  dim. 
The  ledge  or  sidewalk  is  safe  enough,  but  we 
had  to  look  out  and  not  hit  our  heads  against 
the  pipes,  especially  the  water  mains  of  which 
there  are  nearly  always  two.  One  of  these  is 
for  the  water  of  the  river  Seine,  the  other  is 
the  conduit  of  pure  water  from  distant  streams 
and  springs  that  serves  for  household  purposes. 
Generally  the  Seine  water  is  used  only  for 
street  sprinkling,  for  washing  the  street  pave- 
ments, for  supplying  the  many  fountains  and 
establishments  where  steam  is  used ;  but  some- 
times, when  the  season  is  excessively  dry,  there 
is  r  ot  enough  pure  water  and  then  the  Seine 
water  is  turned  on  temporarily.  It  is  full  of 
germs,  but  when  boiled  and  filtered,  is  as 
healthy  and  wholesome  as  need  be.    Gras  mains 


306 


PAEIS. 


are  never  placed  in  Paris  sewers,  and  there  are 
several  reasons  for  this.  The  one  given  to  the 
public  is  that  the  rusting  and  leaking  would  ren- 
der access  to  them  both  difficult  and  danger- 
ous. The  real  reason,  however,  lies  in  the  fear 
of  Communism.  In  case  of  a  " Revolution''  or 
uprising,  the  Communists  would  in  all  proba- 
bility be  in  possession  of  some  locality,  and  so 
have  access  to  the  sewers.  It  would  not  be  diffi- 
cult for  them  to  descend  into  the  sewers  and 
blow  up  the  gas  mains. 

Carrying  our  share  of  light,  we  were  in  the 
subterranean  place  of  existence  of  scores  of 
workmen  during  four  hours  of  time,  and  not  for 
a  single  minute  were  we  inconvenienced  in  the 
least.  Now  and  then  we  heard  a  sharp  rattling 
noise  overhead  which  made  us  start,  and  won- 
der, at  first,  what  it  was,  but  the  foreman 
explained  the  sound  as  that  of  a  pneumatic  mes- 
sage on  its  hurrying  way  to  or  from  some  post 
or  telegraph  office.  Now  and  then  we  realised 
ourselves  in  the  "  land  of  rats,"  for  multitudes  of 
rodents  were  cornered  at  the  extremity  of  a 
short  gallery,  whence  they  escaped  by  running 
over  our  feet  and  into  other  sewers.  During 
all  this  time  we  perceived  no  bad  smells,  but 
the  water  was  dark  and  greasy.    So  clean  are 


ALL  THOROUGHLY  VENTILATED.  307 


the  sewers  kept,  and  so  thoroughly  ventilated, 
that  the  mortality  among  the  thousand  workmen 
who  spend  most  of  their  lives  in  them  is  about 
the  same  as  that  of  the  same  number  who 
follow  trades  above  ground.  Many  of  these 
fellows  are  old  men  who  have  never  done  any 
other  kind  of  work ;  they  labour  in  the  sewers 
until  they  die  of  old  age  or  are  pensioned  off. 

During  the  cholera  visitation  to  Paris,  in  1884, 
three  of  the  nine  hundred  and  odd  sewer  work- 
men died,  a  percentage  in  excess  of  the  deaths 
among  the  general  population,  but  this  is  the 
one  exception.  There  is,  however,  reason  to 
doubt  the  claim  that  those  who  work  down  in  the 
Paris  sewers  are  more  healthy,  or  longer  lived 
than  other  labourers.  Nearly  always  under 
the  earth,  and  working  under  conditions  which 
certainly  are  at  the  best  unsuited  to  excellent 
health,  these  men  would  naturally  be  exposed 
to  rheumatism,  sciatica,  typhus,  injury  of  the 
digestive  organs,  lung  troubles,  asphyxia  from 
explosions  of  sewer  gas,  etc.  There  are  numer- 
ous other  contingencies  to  be  considered,  also 
the  sore  feet  and  legs  caused  by  the  boots  which 
the  men  must  wear.  They  have  water  in  their 
boots  nearly  all  the  time  they  are  below ;  this 
macerates  the  skin  of  their  feet  so  that  it  rubs 


308 


PARIS. 


off  easily  and  the  ills  which  follow  can  be 
imagined.  Their  work,  which  is  always  terri- 
bly fatiguing,  continues  during  ten  successive 
hours,  for  the  labourers  are  not  permitted  to 
"  knock  off  "  at  noon  to  "  casser  la  croute,"  as 
a  bite  to  eat  is  called,  for  more  than  fifteen 
minutes.  The  time  they  are  employed  is  there- 
fore maximum,  but  the  pay,  alas  !  is  only  mini- 
mum, ranging  from  twenty-five  dollars  a  month 
for  the  beginners  (stagiaires)  to  thirty-seven  dol- 
lars for  the  experienced  first-class  foremen. 

Undoubtedly  the  Paris  sewers  are  monu- 
mental, but  for  that  matter  everything  in  the 
way  of  stonework  in  and  about  the  city  is 
monumental ;  whether  it  is  stone  pavements, 
quays,  fountains,  sewers  or  public  buildings. 
Masonry  is  laid  in  a  solid  and  finished  way,  not 
for  the  present  only,  but  for  all  time.  The 
sewers  constructed  since  the  beginning  of  the 
nineteenth  century  are  of  the  same  substantial 
character,  although  they  are  not  in  form  equal 
to  present  requirements,  being  often  too  low 
and  narrow  to  be  convenient.  They  have  been 
designed  with  a  view  to  their  being  entered 
and  kept  perfectly  clean,  the  rule  applying  not 
only  to  the  great  collectors,  and  sewers  of 
medium  size,  but  to  every  lateral  sewer  con- 


METHODS  OF  CLEANSING.  309 


necting  a  private  house  with  the  main  conduit 
of  the  street.  A  man  must  be  able  to  stand 
erect  in  them,  must  have  room  to  move  freely 
and  sufficient  space  to  manipulate  his  tools  or 
machinery  without  inconvenience,  When  there 
is  not  water  enough  in  the  sewers  to  permit  of 
their  being  easily  cleansed  water  is  introduced 
from  the  Canal  Saint  Martin,  or,  in  places 
difficult  to  reach,  is  drawn  from  hydrants  con- 
necting with  the  great  supply  from  the  Seine. 
Gates  are  used  to  stop  the  flow  and  force  for- 
ward the  deposit,  whether  of  sand  or  ordinary 
sewage,  some  of  which  are  simply  held  in  the 
hand,  others  attached  to  a  sort  of  wheelbarrow 
while  the  larger  are  manipulated  by  means  of 
boats  and  carts  as  already  described. 

It  having  been  found  difficult  or  almost  im- 
possible to  force  all  the  sand  and  sewage  for- 
ward by  means  of  the  gate-cars  and  gate-boats 
to  the  point  where  the  great  sewers  empty  into 
the  Seine,  it  has  been  found  necessary  to  con- 
struct at  certain  points  two  parallel  basins  to 
assist  in  removing  the  excess  which  accumulates 
naturally  as  it  is  forced  down  stream.  To 
avoid  the  necessity  of  transporting  this  offensive 
matter  through  the  streets,  these  basins  have 
been  generally  constructed  near  the  Seine  or 


310 


PARIS. 


the  Canal  Saint  Martin,  whence  it  can  be  trans- 
ferred directly  to  boats.  If  taken  from  basins 
at  a  distance  from  the  river,  it  is  placed  in 
dumping-cars  that  can  be  run  to  the  place  of 
embarkation  on  the  rails  which  serve  for  the 
gate-boats. 

The  freshets  to  which  the  Seine  is  liable  are 
a  great  inconvenience  to  the  sewers,  if  they  are 
abnormal.  One  that  occurred  in  1882  began 
the  fifteenth  of  November  and  lasted  till  the 
eighteenth  of  January — more  than  two  months. 
This  half  filled  the  channel  portion  of  some  of 
the  great  sewers — the  part  called  cunettes — 
with  sand,  on  which  was  deposited  a  layer  of 
mud  that  covered  the  sidewalks  of  the  sewers 
to  a  depth  of  from  eight  to  sixteen  inches.  It 
took  two  months  to  remove  this  deposit. 
Nearly  all  the  great  collectors  suffered  at  the 
same  time,  but  especially  those  near  the  Seine, 
while  fifty  miles  of  smaller  sewers  were  more 
or  less  encumbered. 

To  prevent  the  damage  caused  by  freshets  it 
was  proposed  to  close  the  openings  which  admit 
the  waters  of  the  Seine.  If  there  was  usually 
too  much  water  in  the  lower  part  of  the  course 
of  the  great  collecting  sewers,  in  their  upper 
part  there  was  hardly  enough  to  keep  them 


RESERVOIRS  OP  CLEAN  WATER.  311 


clean.  This  was  always  true  of  the  St.  Denis 
collector,  which  it  was  proposed  to  extend  so  as 
to  take  a  part  of  the  excess  of  that  of  the  Hill- 
sides. To  facilitate  the  cleaning  of  the  sewers 
it  is  thought  desirable  by  the  engineers  that 
reservoirs  of  clean  water  should  be  constructed 
in  all  places  where  the  state  of  the  sewers  seems 
to  demand  this  relief.  The  number  that  they 
have  fixed  on  as  necessary  is  nearly  three  thou- 
sand. There  is  always  difficuly  in  keeping 
clean  the  smaller  sewers  which  receive  only  the 
drainage  of  a  few  houses.  Fortunately  in  this 
case  there  is  not  much  to  remove,  and  if  a 
hydrant  has  been  introduced  into  the  sewer  it 
is  sufficient.  A  sewer  that  h  as  a  small  natural 
stream  flowing  through  it,  needs  less  attention. 
In  some  cases  the  water  from  one  sewer,  which 
has  an  ample  supply,  may  be  turned  into  the 
upper  part  of  another.  In  others  a  gate  or 
other  obstruction  may  be  used  for  storing  up 
the  regular  flow  until  there  is  enough  to  cleanse 
the  regular  sewer  for  some  distance  below. 
Several  of  the  gates  in  use,  either  attached  to 
cars  or  boats,  are  capable  of  retaining  one  hun- 
dred cubic  metres  of  water  each,  which  can  be 
set  flowing  at  a  given  moment.  In  this  case 
there  is  a  difficulty,  the  sewage  accumulating 


312 


PARIS. 


to  a  certain  extent  in  the  parts  below  left  dry 
by  the  temporary  stoppage.  The  Paris  engin- 
eers have  made  exceedingly  minute  observa- 
tions on  the  matter  to  be  extracted  from  the 
sewers,  the  manner  of  doing  it  and  the  cost. 
The  trouble  and  expense  attending  the  removal 
of  sand  makes  it  desirable  that  as  little  as  pos- 
sible should  find  its  way  into  the  sewers. 

As  far  as  the  sewers  are  concerned  wood  or 
asphalt  pavements  are  preferable  to  stone 
blocks,  which  are  laid,  usually,  in  a  bed  of  sand. 
When  the  Avenue  des  Champs  Elysees  was 
paved  with  stone,  there  was  removed  every 
year  from  the  sewer  under  it  twelve  hundred 
cubic  metres  of  sand.  Since  it  has  been  paved 
with  wood,  the  amount  removed  annually  never 
exceeds  one  hundred  and  fifty  cubic  metres. 
To  diminish  the  quantity  of  sand  falling  into 
the  sewers  receptacles  shaped  like  a  basket  are 
placed  immediately  under  the  openings  at  the 
curbstones  by  which  the  wash  enters  from  the 
street.  These  retain  the  solid  matter,  allowing 
the  water  to  pass.  They  are  removed  at  inter- 
vals by  the  manholes  and  carried  ofF  on  wag- 
ons to  the  suburbs.  It  is  not  considered  entirely 
safe  to  leave  the  workmen  in  the  sewers  with- 
out taking  certain  precautions.    The  principal 


GUARDING  AGAINST  ACCIDENTS.  313 


danger  is  of  their  being  flooded  by  a  sudden 
storm,  in  which  case  the  sidewalks  would  be 
quickly  covered,  and  the  water,  perhaps,  nearly 
fill  the  sewer.  To  avoid  accidents,  watchmen 
are  placed  at  intervals  at  the  manholes  to  warn 
their  comrades.  Similar  precautions  are  taken 
in  Summer  on  the  days  when  the  route  between 
the  Madeleine  and  the  Place  du  Chatelet,  by 
the  Rue  de  Rivoli,  is  given  up  to  excursionists. 
Strangers  passing  by  the  Place  de  la  Concorde, 
at  the  corner  of  the  Tuileries  Garden,  may  have 
noticed  a  man  on  guard  at  a  subterranean  stair- 
way. It  is  the  junction  of  the  Rue  Royale  and 
the  Rue  de  Rivoli,  where  the  change  is  made 
from  cars  to  boats,  or  vice  versa,  and,  if  any- 
thing specially  unexpected  happens,  either 
above  or  under  ground,  measures  may  be  taken 
to  meet  the  emergency. 

The  cost  of  every  branch  of  the  service  is 
calculated  by  the  engineers  with  scrupulous 
exactitude.  A  gate-boat  is  said  to  cost  in  the 
largest  collectors  forty  cents  an  hour.  In  those 
of  secondary  importance,  thirty  cents  an  hour. 
The  speed  of  gate-boats  and  gate-cars  varies 
according  to  the  accumulation  of  sand  and  sew- 
age. In  the  Asnieres  collector  the  cost  per 
kilometer  is  estimated  at  fifteen  dollars.  The 


314 


PARIS. 


cost  for  the  same  distance  in  those  who  have 
boats  a  little  smaller  and  in  those  that  employ 
gate-cars  is  from  five  to  six  dollars.  Regarded 
from  the  standpoint  of  quantity,  it  costs  in  the 
Asnieres  collector  twenty-one  cents  to  push  a 
cubic  metre  of  sand  one  kilometer,  in  the  Mar- 
ceau  collector,  eight  cents ;  in  the  collectors 
that  follow  the  banks  of  the  Seine,  forty  cents, 
and  in  those  which  have  gate-cars  nearly  four 
times  that  sum. 

The  more  perfect  the  channel  (cunette)  of  the 
sewer,  that  is,  the  trench  at  the  bottom  of  the 
gallery,  to  which  the  water  is  ordinarily  con- 
fined, the  more  easily  it  is  kept  clean ;  because 
the  sand  and  sewage  do  not  easily  attach  them- 
selves to  the  bottom  and  sides.  Sand  is  depos- 
ited in  greater  or  less  quantities  according  to 
the  velocity  of  the  current.  To  entirely  pre- 
vent its  deposit  a  velocity  of  one  metre  per 
second  is  deemed  necessary.  A  bank  of  sand 
travels  down  a  sewer  very  slowly.  Taken 
at  the  Rue  du  Faubourg  du  Temple  it  requires 
ten  days  for  it  to  reach  the  Asnieres  collector 
by  gate-cars  and  thirty  more  to  traverse  the  re- 
maining distance  from  that  point  to  where  the 
collector  empties  into  the  Seine.  The  entire 
distance  is  from  seven  to  eight    miles.  Of 


EAKLY  HISTOKY  OF  SEWERAGE.  315 


course  all  the  intervening  accumulations  are 
carried  on  with  it. 

If  I  were  writing  a  history  of  the  sewerage 
of  Paris  instead  of  a  description  of  that  system 
as  it  now  is  I  should  of  course  feel  compelled 
to  give  quotations  from  dusty  old  documents, 
and  make  display  of  gathered  up  official  infor- 
mation on  the  subject.  That  is  not  neces- 
sary, however,  and  we  may  only  briefly  make 
mention  of  the  many  centuries  which  have 
already  gone  something  in  this  way.  So  long 
as  the  city  was  only  surrounded  by  fortifica- 
tions on  the  South  the  water  from  the  Fau- 
bourg St.  Germain  followed  the  inclinations  of 
the  ground  to  the  Bievre.  When  the  city  was 
entirely  surrounded  by  a  ditch,  in  1356,  under 
King  John,  the  water  from  the  same  locality 
was  conducted  into  the  ditch  and  fell  into  the 
Seine  below  the  Palais  des  Arts.  The  city 
was  then  small,  and  the  place  where  the  Seine 
received  the  drainage  of  the  left  bank  spoken 
of  was  opposite  the  Tuileries.  On  the  other 
and  more  populous  side  of  the  city,  the  water 
coming  from  the  Butte  Montmartre,  the  most 
considerable  elevation  in  Paris,  and  from  the 
slopes  of  the  hills  extending  round  the  North 
and  Northeastern  sides  of  the  city,  fell  into  a 


316 


PARIS. 


creek  called  the  Menilmontant.  This  was 
partly  enclosed  in  the  reign  of  Charles  YI  and, 
in  time,  covered  entirely.  It  was  the  first 
sewer  covered  in  Paris.  The  walls  of  the 
sewers  were  then,  and  for  a  long  time  after- 
ward, perpendicular.  Most  of  the  sewers  were 
still  open,  and,  as  the  inclination  was  slight, 
they  were  exceedingly  offensive,  especially  that 
passing  near  the  Palace  of  Tournelles,  which 
occupied  what  is  now  the  Place  Royale,  be- 
tween the  Place  Royale  and  the  Louvre. 
Louis  XII,  who  occupied  this  palace,  com- 
plained of  the  odours,  but,  for  reasons  unex- 
plained, nothing  was  done  to  remedy  the  evil. 
His  successor,  Frangois  I,  unable  to  endure  the 
nearness  of  the  open  sewer,  built  the  Palace  of 
the  Tuileries  a  quarter  of  a  mile  further  down 
the  Seine. 

Things  remained  in  this  condition  for  nearly  a 
hundred  years  when  the  sewer  of  Ponceau  was 
covered  by  Francis  Miron,  prevost  of  the  mer- 
chants, at  his  own  expense.  It  was  not  so 
thoroughly  done  as  to  confine  the  odours  and 
five  years  later  (1610)  Marie  de  Medicis  charged 
the  treasurer  of  France  to  see  that  it  was  thor- 
oughly cleaned.  During  the  reign  of  Louis 
XIV  the  total  covered  sewers  were  six  thousand 


NEGLECTED  DURING  THE  REVOLUTION.  31? 


two  hundred  and  forty-two  feet,  which  was 
increased  shortly  afterward  to  twenty-four 
thousand  seven  hundred  and  twenty  feet,  or 
nearly  five  miles.  The  sewer  that  inclosed  the 
Menilmontant  creek  was  not  entirely  closed 
until  1740.  Gutters  or  drains  were  still  to  be 
seen  in  Paris  fifty  years  ago  in  the  middle  of 
the  street.  There  were  few  changes  in  the 
sewers  during  the  last  half  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  At  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth 
century  about  ten  miles  had  been  covered,  an 
aggregate  which  was  increased  to  twenty  miles 
in  1835.  In  1856  there  were  over  one  hundred 
miles. 

During  the  Revolution  and  the  early  years 
of  the  reign  of  Napoleon,  the  sewers  were  al- 
most forgotten  and  some  of  them  became  so 
filled  up  as  to  be  unserviceable.  When  Napo- 
leon reached  Paris  in  1806  the  Secretary  of  the 
Interior  informed  him  that  a  man  named  Brune- 
seau  had  visited  the  Ponceau  sewer  (Rue  Veille 
du  Temple),  which  had  been  covered  in  1650, 
and  also  the  great  collector,  Menilmontant, 
vaulted  in  1740.  The  exploration,  which  was 
really  that  of  an  unknown  world,  was  accom- 
plished in  the  face  of  many  dangers,  of  asphyx- 
iation, of  being  smothered  in  filth,  of  being 


318 


PARIS. 


caught  and  imprisoned  in  places  whence  escape 
would  have  been  impossible.  Public  attention 
being  called  to  the  subject,  some  effort  was 
made  at  improvement,  but  as  all  the  money 
that  the  country  could  raise  was  needed  for 
military  purposes,  from  1806  to  1812  only  a 
little  over  three  miles  of  new  sewers,  or  open 
sewers  covered,  were  added.  In  1832  came 
the  cholera,  which  decimated  Paris.  Its  rav- 
ages were  attributed  to  the  open  drains  and 
sewers,  and  the  filthy  condition  of  those  already 
vaulted.  Louis  XVIII  added  nearly  four 
miles,  and  Charles  IX,  during  his  short  reign, 
nearly  five  miles  as  a  result  of  the  alarm  caused 
by  the  epidemic.  Louis  Philippe,  a  public- 
spirited  king,  built  about  sixty  miles,  and  the 
Republic  of  1848,  though  it  lasted  less  than 
two  years,  added  to  this  nearly  fifteen  miles. 
What  has  been  done  since  then  has  already 
been  indicated.  It  is  hardly  probable  that  any 
other  city  in  the  world  will  ever  have  a  sewer- 
age system  more  efficient  than  the  capital,  and 
yet,  the  total  amount  of  money  expended  in 
the  repair,  construction  and  cleansing  of  all  the 
egouts  of  Paris  during  the  past  twenty-five  or 
thirty  years  does  not  exceed  $15,000,000,  not 
including  certain  expenses  which  had  to  be 


MILLIONS  OF  HUMAN  BONES.  319 


shared  with  the  Water  Department.  The 
French  have  a  way  of  referring  to  all  large  ap- 
propriations, whether  National  or  Municipal, 
as  la  danse  des  millions  ;  but  they  do  not  com- 
plain on  account  of  the  size  of  these  budgets  so 
long  as  the  expense  is  legitimate. 

In  another  part  of  underground  Paris  there 
are  twice  as  many  human  skulls  collected  in 
galleries  as  there  are  human  souls  in  the  capital 
itself.  There  are  miles  and  miles  of  these  cata- 
combs, and  the  bones  of  millions  of  persons  are 
in  them.  These  subterranean  galleries  used  to 
be  rock  quarries  and  time  was  when  they  were 
in  the  suburbs.  The  city  grew,  suburbs  were 
built  over  imperceptibly,  and  much  of  what  is 
now  within  the  ancient  limits  is  really  wanting 
in  solid  foundation.  In  1785  the  city  cemeter- 
ies were  so  full  it  was  suggested  the  mouldering 
bones  should  be  removed  to  the  old  quarries, 
especially  from  the  cemetery  of  the  Church  of 
the  Innocents.  During  more  than  five  centur- 
ies this  cemetery  was  the  burial  ground  of  the 
commercial  classes,  who  inhabited  the  central 
quarters  of  the  capital.  In  summer  it  was 
unhealthy,  owing  to  the  putrid  exhalations 
which  emanated  therefrom  and  formed  the  germ 
of  epidemics,  while  the  ground  had  become  so 


320 


PARIS, 


thoroughly  impregnated  with  corpses  that  it 
was  soft,  unctuous  and  pulpy  with  decomposing 
matter.  Before  that,  however,  vast  quantities 
of  bones  had  been  transported  to  an  open  place 
where  there  were  stores  in  which  perfumes 
and  the  latest  fashions  were  sold,  and  where, 
when  dusk  began  to  fall,  fops  and  dandies 
went  to  flirt  over  the  counter  with  shopgirls. 
When  this  place  was  closed  by  the  decree  of 
the  Convention  of  1793,  more  than  four  million 
corpses  were  interred  under  its  sod.  Soon  a 
portion  of  the  ground  was  allotted  for  building 
purposes,  the  work  of  digging  up  coffins  com- 
menced, and  within  less  than  two  years  two  mil- 
lion skeletons  were  removed  to  the  catacombs. 

But  the  cemetery  itself  was  far  from  cleared 
by  this  wholesale  exhumation,  and,  in  1851, 
when  the  municipality  resolved  to  build  the 
present  central  markets,  tumbrils  were  filled  for 
week  after  week  with  the  bones  of  the  dead. 
Crowds  used  to  congregate  daily  to  witness  the 
odd  sight  of  skeletons  being  dug  up  by  the 
thousands,  and  many  valuables  wTere  brought 
to  light  which  went  to  enrich  the  Museums  of 
the  Louvre  and  Cluny,  also  the  Artillery  Mu- 
seum at  the  Invalides.  But  although  thou- 
sands of  skeletons  were  then  unearthed  the  old 


AN  UNDERGROUND  NECROPOLIS.  321 


ground  has  by  no  means  restored  all  its  dead, 
and  underneath,  and  in  many  cellars,  between 
the  Eue  de  Rivoli  and  the  Rue  Montmartre 
skulls  are  still  to  be  found  without  digging 
very  deep. 

In  1860  a  large  grave  for  two  thousand 
corpses  was  being  dug  near  the  street  of  La 
Lingerie  when  the  houses  of  that  street  nearly 
tumbled  down  and  public  health  suffered.  It 
was  then  decided  to  suppress  the  old  cemeteries 
and  transfer  the  numerous  bones  that  they  con- 
tained to  the  forsaken  quarries  situated  under 
the  plain  of  Montsouris,  and  these  soon  took 
on  the  rank  of  an  underground  necropolis. 

The  removal  of  the  remains  continued  dur- 
ing fifteen  months,  and  the  bones  which  now 
form  the  heaps  of  these  quarries  are  reckoned 
as  representing  about  six  million  bodies.  It 
was  the  original  plan  that  the  bones  should  be 
placed  in  regular  rows,  with  appropriate  in- 
scriptions, serving  as  lessons,  to  the  living. 
The  skulls — there  are  more  than  five  million  by 
actual  count — are  placed  in  conjunction  with 
the  leg  and  arm  bones  in  a  manner  that  has  a 
striking  appearance.  The  different  parts  of 
the  catacombs  are  named,  with  strange  incon- 
gruity, after  the  purport  of  the  inscription 


322 


PAEIS. 


which  was  placed  there,  or  from  the  name  of 
its  author.  Virgil,  Ovid  and  Anacreon  have 
each  their  crypts,  as  well  as  the  prophets  Jere- 
miah and  Ezekiel,  while  Hervey,  the  author  of 
"  Meditations/'  takes  his  place  with  Horace, 
Malesherbes  and  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau. 

A  journey  through  these  catacombs  takes 
several  hours  ;  it  is  very  tedious  and  the  damp, 
cold  air  is  often  attended  with  unwholesome 
effects.  Not  a  few  travellers  have  afterwards 
suffered  from  rheumatisms  and  coughs  which 
they  had  brought  up  with  them  from  those  gyp- 
sum beds  called  catacombs,  which  now  contain 
all  the  visible  remains  of  human  creatures  that 
have  filled  the  burial  places  within  Paris  for  at 
least  a  thousand  years.  These  visits  began 
during  the  First  Empire  and  they  have  ever 
since  continued.  The  principal  entrance  is 
near  the  Gate  d'Enfer,  and  before  crossing  the 
threshold  of  a  heavy  door  that  leads  to  a 
narrow  and  slippery  staircase  every  visitor  re- 
ceives a  candle,  which  he  or  she  holds  in  the 
hand  during  the  exploration.  A  keeper  counts 
those  who  go  in,  and  after  having  descended 
about  one  hundred  feet  underground  they  fol- 
low in  Indian  file  the  guide,  who  points  out  the 
curious    arrangements,    while  city  employes 


JOURNEY  THROUGH  THE  CATACOMBS.  323 


close  the  ranks  so  as  to  prevent  any  one  getting 
lost  in  the  several  labyrinths ;  however,  arrow- 
heads, as  an  extra  precaution,  are  painted  on 
the  walls,  to  show  any  one  who  may  happen  to 
go  astray  how  to  regain  his  way,  while  heavy 
chains  bar  the  avenues  leading  to  dangerous 
thoroughfares. 

Near  the  entrance  the  path  is  narrow  for  a 
considerable  distance,  but  afterwards  one  enters 
large  and  spacious  streets,  all  marked  with 
names,  as  in  the  city  above,  so  that  the  place 
has  in  some  measure  the  appearance  of  a  town 
swallowed  up  in  the  earth.  The  general  height 
of  the  roof  is  about  nine  or  ten  feet,  but  in 
some  parts  it  is  not  less  than  thirty.  Under 
the  houses  and  under  many  of  the  streets  the 
roof  seems  to  be  tolerably  well  secured  by  im- 
mense stones  set  in  mortar  and  forming  pillars ; 
in  other  parts  where  there  are  only  gardens 
above,  it  is  totally  unsupported  for  considerable 
distances,  the  roof  being  level,  or  a  plain  piece 
of  rock.  It  used  to  be  the  custom,  after  visi- 
tors had  walked  about  two  miles,  to  show 
them  into  a  kind  of  saloon  cut  out  of  a  rock, 
and  said  to  be  exactly  under  the  Church  of  St. 
Jacques.  This  retreat  was  occasionally  illumi- 
nated, and  contained  representations  in  minia- 


324 


PARIS, 


ture  of  the  fortifications,  with  cannons  ready  to 
fire,  etc.  It  is  like  entering  the  Palace  of 
Death,  for  all  around  the  walls  are  arranged 
arms  and  legs,  and  skulls,  of  course.  Walking 
along,  one  notices  several  inscriptions,  some  in 
very  poor  Latin,  as  for  instance :  "  Has  ultra 
metas  requiescunt,  beaten  spem  expectantes." 
Further  on  some  whimsical  individual  has  put 
up  :  "  Un  homme  dans  la  tombe  est  un  navire 
au  port,"  and  by  the  light  of  his  candle  one 
reads  again,  "  Tombeau  de  Gilbert,"  though  it 
is  not  his  tomb  at  all ;  it  is  only  the  name  given 
to  a  pillar  that  supports  the  street  above.  An- 
other column  is  called  the  "  Obelisk,"  another 
the  "  Sepulchral  Lamp,"  a  third  the  "  Pillar 
of  Clementine  Nights,"  in  souvenir  of  an 
Italian  poem. 

In  1814,  when  the  Austrian  Emperor  visited 
the  catacombs  in  order  to  make  sure  that  there 
M^as  no  powder  concealed  in  them,  he  stood  a 
long  time  before  another  pillar  on  which  there 
is  an  inscription  to  the  effect  that  sovereigns 
had  better  lay  to  heart  the  fact  that  kings  and 
shepherds  are  made  of  the  same  common  clay. 
There  was  one  corner  which  produced  a  pro- 
found impression  on  me,  that  part  which  has 
received    the  dead  who  perished  in  French 


THE  LEVEL  OP  ETERNITY. 


325 


civil  discords.  I  stood  for  a  short  time  before 
a  tumulus  bearing  these  inscriptions  :  "  Combat 
k  la  manufacture  de  Reveillon,  faubourg  St. 
Antoine,  28  Avril,  1789  ";  "  Victimes  du  10 
A  out,  1792";  "  Combat  au  chateau  des  Tui- 
leries  (su)."  A  little  farther  on  is  a  small  chapel, 
with  an  altar,  on  which  is  written:  "Diesrnani- 
bus  civium,  diebus  II.  et  III.  Septembris,  1782  ; 
Lutetiae  trucidatorium " ;  and  there  lie  the 
remains  of  the  victims  of  the  massacres  of  Sep- 
tember, 1792.  Most  of  those  decapitated  dur- 
ing the  Reign  of  Terror  rest  elsewhere. 
Danton,  Robespierre,  St.  Just,  Les  Girondins, 
Mademoiselle  Roland,  and  many  others  sleep 
in  the  cemetery  of  the  Madeleine,  where  Louis 
XVI  and  Marie  Antoinette  once  rested. 

All  those  who  during  many  centuries  lived 
in  Paris,  from  the  time  of  the  Capets  to  Valois, 
from  Valois  to  Bourbons,  from  Bourbons  down 
to  Bonapartes — beggars  and  grand  lords,  Cath- 
olics and  Huguenots,  Leaguers  and  Royalists — 
all,  or  most  of  them,  are  now  in  these  catacombs. 
All  those  bones  ranged  along  the  walls  were  once 
animated  with  the  electric  current  of  life ;  they 
once  were  beings  who  laughed,  wept,  loved 
and  were  being  loved.  In  that  confused 
equality  Merovingian  kings  keep  eternal  silence 


326 


PAEIS. 


by  the  side  of  criminals  executed  on  the  Place 
de  la  Greve ;  there  French  monarchs  are  finish- 
ing their  process  of  decay  among  the  feeble  of 
the  Cour  des  Miracles,  or  of  the  two  thousand 
put  to  death  on  the  day  of  St.  Bartholomew. 
But  the  level  of  eternity  wishes  for  still  more 
than  that,  and  ribs,  vertebrae,  sterni  and  other 
bones  are  forever  being  heaped  and  piled  in 
more  or  less  cubical  masses  called  "  bourrages  " 
that  have  facades  made  of  skulls  selected  from 
those  which  are  best  preserved.  There  is  not 
one  of  the  old  French  families  but  which  has 
some  relatives  in  these  catacombs,  lying  here. and 
there  among  an  innumerable  crowd  of  the  most 
humble  and  the  most  famous. 

For  some  years  past  the  authorities  have  tried 
to  prevent  bones  from  different  sources  being 
mixed  up  and  confused,  and  stone  inscriptions 
indicate  that  this  mass  came  from  Picpus,  where 
Lafayette  lies;  this  other  from  the  Cordelien 
Convent;  that  other  from  the  market  of  the 
Innocents,  etc.  A  tombstone,  the  only  one  to 
be  found  among  so  many  thousands  of  others 
of  more  urgent  interest,  is  set  up  to  inform  visi- 
tors in  prose  and  poetry  that  it  covers  the  bones 
of  Franchise  Gellain  wife  of  Legros,  she  who 
assisted  Latude  to  escape  from  the  Bastile. 


AN  IMPORTANT  REFLECTION.  327 


Here  is  the  pro  visionary  altar  where  at  least 
once  a  year  mass  is  said  for  many  trespasses. 
That  enormous  pile  of  bones,  the  top  of  which 
pierces  the  vaulted  roof,  came  from  the  graves 
of  the  Rue  de  la  Tombe  Issoire,  and  so  on. 

In  these  pits  are  the  human  remains  that  were 
upturned  when  digging  foundations  in  sup- 
pressed cemeteries  or  when  making  new  streets 
in  Paris.  Men  heaped  them  into  carts,  and 
when  these  were  full  pushed  them  to  the  empty 
places  that  were  still  waiting  to  receive  their 
"bourrages."  Bones  everywhere  and  inscrip- 
tions also.  The  aspect  is  not  varied,  the  pic- 
turesque is  exhausted ;  we  see  nothing  but  one 
thing,  the  bones  of  human  bodies.  After  a 
few  minutes  in  these  subterranean  passages  curi- 
osity finds  itself  more  than  satisfied.  It  is  one 
of  those  places  where  everyone  wishes  to  go 
and  to  which  nobody  ever  wants  to  return. 

Still  there  is  an  important  reflection  to  be 
got  out  of  the  walls  and  battlements  of  skulls 
and  crossbones  of  this  subterranean  dead  city. 
Its  grim  visages  of  mortality  suggest  to  us 
what  a  momentary  space  is  the  life  of  man,  be- 
tween the  eternity  of  the  past  and  of  the  un- 
known future.  Where  are  the  spirits,  the  souls 
that  once  animated  all  those  millions  of  human 


328 


PARIS. 


beings  ?  Guess  what  we  will,  and  as  long  as  we 
please,  knowledge  is  hidden  from  us  completely. 
Thousands  of  years  of  philosophy  have  not  yet 
answered  the  question  whether  or  not  our  souls 
survive  our  bodies.  Religion  teaches  us  to 
believe  it,  and  in  our  cares  of  life  it  is  hope  that 
sustains  and  cheers  us  in  the  belief  that  the 
grave  is  not  our  last  home.  Our  destination  is 
to  a  higher  sphere  than  to  catacombs  and  old 
cemeteries. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

The  final  one — End  of  an  imperfect  attempt  to  show 
why  Paris-is  so  attractive — A  resume  of  its  almost 
countless  splendours — Two  hundred  thousand  trees 
and  only  eighty-five  thousand  houses  within  the 
fortifications — The  striking  statistics  of  daily 
existence — A  great  city  for  vehicles — The  Octroi 
duty — Rental  value  of  all  private  buildings — 
Annual  expenses  about  $65,000,000 — A  summing 
up  of  this  study  of  the  greatest  of  all  great  cities. 

We  have  now  arrived  at  the  finish  of  this 
attempt  to  describe  the  Paris  of  the  past  and 
of  the  present;  to  show  why  the  city  is  at- 
tractive to  strangers ;  why  Frenchmen  should 
be  proud  of  it  as  their  capital,  and  why  Paris- 
ians look  on  it  as  the  centre  of  the  universe. 
We  have  strolled  its  clean  streets,  splendid 
avenues,  magnificent  boulevards  and  lovely 
parks ;  gazed  at  its  triumphal  arches,  marble 
monuments  and  great  institutions  ;  looked  in  on 
its  stately  private  palaces,  public  buildings, 
beautiful  churches,  and  museums  filled  with 
rich  treasures  and  masterpieces  of  art ;  visited 


330 


PAKIS. 


its  scientific  schools,  colleges  and  universities ; 
walked  on  and  along  its  numerous  bridges, 
quays  and  attractive  gardens ;  enjoyed  its  Ouera 
House  and  theatres. 

Within  its  fortifications  there  is  a  forest  of 
two  hundred  thousand  trees,  and  there  are 
over  ten  thousand  wooden  benches  along  the 
sidewalks,  free  to  those  who  would  rest  them- 
selves. There  is  a  superficial  area  of  ten  mil- 
lion square  feet  of  stone,  and  of  eleven  million 
square  feet  of  wooden  pavement.  Paris  eats, 
drinks,  writes,  learns,  marries,  defends  itself 
against  transgressors  of  the  law,  is  ill  and  dies. 
On  an  average  two  hundred  and  forty  million 
beeves,  two  hundred  and  fifteen  thousand  calves, 
two  million  sheep  and  five  hundred  thousand 
hogs  are  sent  to  the  slaughter  houses  yearly 
for  its  consumption.  But  a  century  ago  Paris 
ate  only  fifteen  thousand  beeves,  one  hundred 
thousand  calves,  and  fifty  thousand  hogs.  Of 
poultry,  fifty  million  pounds ;  of  fruit,  thirty- 
five  million  pounds ;  of  fish,  sixty  million 
pounds,  are  now  consumed  annually  by  its  in- 
habitants. 

On  an  average  there  are,  annually,  ninety- 
five  weddings  for  every  ten  thousand  inhabi- 
tants.   In  the  populous  centres,  where  the  poor 


MONUMENT  TO  JEANNE  D'ARC. 


THE  PINAL  CHAPTER.  331 


live,  Parisians  never  deprive  themselves  of 
babies;  but  in  the  rich  quarters  the  average 
birthrate  is  quite  small.  Paris  is  a  great  town 
for  vehicles.  There  are  about  seven  hundred 
omnibuses  which  do  a  distance  annually  of 
about  two  thousand  times  around  the  globe. 
The  horses  for  this  gigantic  journey  number 
ten  thousand.  Comparatively  speaking,  there 
are  but  few  street  cars  and  yet  they  carry 
annually  over  eighty  million  passengers  drawn 
by  four  thousand  horses.  One  cab  company 
owns  six  thousand  nine  hundred  numbered  cabs 
and  one  thousand  two  hundred  and  fifty  car- 
riages, with  about  eleven  thousand  horses. 
There  are  four  or  five  more  cab  companies  whose 
combined  stock  of  cabs  and  animals  about  equal 
the  first  mentioned.  There  are  innumerable 
steamboats  on  the  river ;  one  company  carries 
seven  million  five  hundred  thousand,  a  second 
carries  six  million,  a  third  two  million  passen- 
gers annually.  From  and  to  Paris  thirty-five 
million  letters,  fifteen  million  postal  cards,  and 
three  hundred  million  newspapers  are  handled 
annually. 

There  are  only  about  eighty-five  thousand 
dwelling  houses  in  all  Paris;  there  are  over 
five  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  of  them  in 


332 


PAEIS. 


London,  and  yet  the  population  of  the  French 
capital  is  half  as  much  as  that  of  the  British 
metropolis.  This  apparent  scarcity  of  houses 
is  because  most  of  the  buildings  are  tenements, 
where  several  families  occupy  a  single  struc- 
ture. For  instance  these  eighty-five  thousand 
houses  are  divided  into  no  fewer  than  seven 
hundred  thousand  apartments  and  lodgings: 
they  rent  for  from  $60  per  annum  up  to  $10, 
000  per  annum.  Independent  of  State  taxes, 
Parisians  pay  over  $30,000,000  yearly  in  the 
way  of  octroi  duties.  Octroi  is  an  extra  duty 
which  must  be  paid  on  all  articles  of  consump- 
tion, building  material,  etc.,  that  enter  the 
capital. 

According  to  the  tax  rolls,  the  rental  value 
of  all  the  houses  amounts  to  $135,000,000,  on 
the  basis  of  four  per  cent,  which  is  believed  to 
be  the  average  yield  of  real  estate  investments 
in  Paris.  The  built-up  city  represents  a  total 
value  of  about  $3,500,000,000,  which  does  not 
include  the  value  of  public  buildings,  churches, 
and  other  structures  that  have  no  rental  value. 
Paris  has  a  standing  debt  of  $400,000,000,  and 
has  to  raise  something  like  $65,000,000  annu- 
ally to  meet  all  the  requirements.  Among  its 
expenses  are :  interest  on  debt  $22,000,000 ; 


WEALTH  AND  EXPENSES.  333 


public  instruction,  $8,000,000;  public  assist- 
ance, or  charity,  $4,500,000 ;  police,  $5,000,000  ; 
firemen,  $1,600,000;  streets,  $7,000,000;  sew- 
ers, $2,400,000;  apprentice  schools,  $1,400,000, 
etc.  It  costs  in  the  neighbourhood  of  $2,500,- 
000  yearly  to  pave  the  streets  of  Paris,  exclu- 
sive of  the  sidewalks,  which  are  usually  paid 
for  by  the  property  owners.  Every  year  the 
sweeping  and  sprinkling  of  the  streets  of  Paris 
cost  as  much  as  $1,600,000.  There  is  an  en- 
rolled army  of  four  thousand  men  and  women, 
to  whom  the  picturesque  name  of  "  Chevaliers 
of  the  Broom  "  is  applied,  who  do  this  work. 

When  recalling  the  score  or  so  of  years  which 
the  writer  lived  within  the  walls  of  the  wonder- 
ful capital,  it  seems  to  him  almost  like  a  dream, 
a  strange  and  struggling  dream  which  often 
moves  his  mind  from  its  present  happy  sur- 
roundings to  that  pleasant  past  which  began, 
in  1875  and  ended  with  1895.  But  it  is  not 
all  a  dream.  I  have  only  to  open  my  mental 
vision  and  gaze  across  the  ocean  to  see,  under 
the  glare  of  bright  sunshine,  the  great  city 
stretching  over  its  hills,  nestling  in  its  plain,  a 
marvellous  and  imposing  spectacle.  "  Voyez 
s'il  est  grand,  s'il  est  beau,  notre  Paris  !  "  its 
people  will  say  to  you  as  the  capital  is  pointed 


334 


PARIS. 


out  from  the  heights  of  Saint  Cloud,  or  from 
the  Hill  of  Martyrdom. 

But  is  it  grand  and  beautiful  only  because 
of  its  material  greatness,  its  immensity  as  a 
capital — second  of  all  the  world  in  population, 
first  of  all  in  its  monuments — or  because  of  the 
astounding  amount  of  work  accomplished 
within  its  precincts,  or  the  accumulated  efforts 
of  brains  and  muscles  that  it  represents  ?  Is  it 
not  rather  an  immensity  of  civilisation  more 
because  of  the  human  thought  therein,  culti- 
vated as  it  is  nowhere  else  on  earth,  because  of 
its  intense  life  of  activities,  because  of  its  pas- 
sions, its  ideas  and  its  beauties  ?  So  intensely 
is  the  attention  of  mankind  fixed  on  the  role 
which  Paris  has  ever  taken,  and  will  ever  take 
in  the  drama  of  history,  before  France,  and  be- 
fore all  the  world,  that  more  than  once  have  I 
paused  in  this  labour,  almost  impelled  to  draw 
back  from  the  task  of  showing  what  it  is,  of 
making  it  understood,  because  of  its  immense 
past  and  its  wonderful  present. 

In  fine  weather  or  in  foul  weather,  the  Paris 
of  to-day  is  superior  in  every  respect  to  all 
other  capitals.  In  Spring-time,  in  Summer,  or 
when  Autumn  comes  Paris  is  always  beautiful. 
After  March  she  begins  to  put  on  her  lovely 


IN  HER  LOVELIEST  TOILETTE. 


335 


toilette.  After  June  her  flowers  bloom  in  un- 
bounded profusion  and  she  is  adorned  with 
these.  Even  in  September,  when  fields  and 
forests  are  ringing  with  hunting  horns  or  the 
snap  of  guns,  when  vine-growers  are  harvest- 
ing their  grapes,  when  the  fruit  is  being  gathered 
and  the  long  days  are  beginning  to  shorten 
again,  it  seems  as  if  Paris  were  more  lively  than 
ever  before,  there  are  so  many  people  to  fill  her 
public  squares  and  gardens  and  boulevards 
with  their  charming  presence.  Nor  is  Winter 
so  disagreeable  as  elsewhere,  for  the  cold 
weather  at  Paris  lasts  no  more  than  four  or 
five  weeks  at  most,  and  the  season  is  gay  with 
receptions,  and  full  of  knowledge,  with  schools 
and  universities. 

Then  when  Spring  comes  in  there  are  the 
annual  art  exhibitions,  closely  followed  by  liter- 
ary congresses  or  by  scientific  conferences. 

It  is  a  gay  capital,  but  it  also  is  a  serious 
capital.  There  are  plenty  of  idlers  within 
Paris,  but  there  are  also  plenty  of  workers  who 
are  never  tired.  It  has  been  called  a  "  modern 
Babylon  "  ;  it  is  a  modern  Palmyra  in  its  wis- 
dom, an  Alexandria  in  its  books  and  precious 
parchments,  a  Nineveh  in  its  many  statues  and 
monuments,  an  Athens  for  its  learned  men  and 


336 


PARIS. 


women.  In  all  things  and  in  everything  Paris  is 
most  beautiful,  most  lovely,  most  adorable,  most 
intelligent.  It  is  an  immense  vat  in  which  boils 
and  ferments  the  vintage  of  humanity.  There 
are  many  things,  many  mysterious,  terrible, 
infamous  things  to  be  found  in  it.  It  burns, 
it  foams,  it  stains,  it  growls  it  threatens,  it 
roars,  it  frightens,  it  stifles  sometimes  ;  but  in 
the  end  there  comes  out  of  and  results  from  all 
this  fermentation  the  elixir  of  life,  genius,  learn- 
ing, industry,  the  beautiful  in  every  form. 

It  is  the  eternal  fountain  of  Jouvence,  at 
which  ancient  Europe  has  bathed  for  centuries, 
and  to  which  the  New  World  makes  yearly 
pilgrimages.  It  is  the  unfailing  spring  of  let- 
ters, science,  arts  and  industry,  one  at  which 
humanity  quenches  its  thirst  and  is  renewed 
again.  Paris  is  a  magnet  which  draws  to  it- 
self everything  that  is  superior,  intellectually 
so,  or  otherwise.  It  is  a  pole  towards  which 
all  intelligences  turn,  and  not  only  does  it  at- 
tract but  it  retains.  Whoever  has  never  seen 
it  wishes  to  see  it ;  whoever  has  seen  it  leaves 
it  with  difficulty  and  returns  to  it  with  enthu- 
siasm. In  all  that  relates  to  intellectual,  in- 
dustrial and  social  life,  the  pre-eminence  of 
Paris  is  incontestible  and  uncontested. 


o 

o 

P5 

M 

w 

Q 


GOOD-BYE  DEAR  GEEAT  CITY.  337 

This  curious,  immense,  unique  city,  in  which 
no  gleam  of  the  intellect  is  ever  lost,  is  equally 
sensitive  to  moral  and  to  plastic  beauty.  It 
applauds  with  an  equal  enthusiasm  a  bon  mot, 
and  a  noble  act.  It  is  the  living  and  trium- 
phant demonstration  of  the  axiom  that  the 
mind  is  the  right  hand  to  the  human  heart.  It 
is  compassionate  for  all,  because  it  understands 
all.  It  has  an  apotheosis  for  every  glory, 
crowns  for  all  talents,  satisfaction  for  all  appe- 
tites, balm  for  all  wounds.  It  takes  in  every 
misery,  it  pardons  all  faults.  It  does  even 
better  than  that,  for  it  forgets ;  and  of  all  forms 
of  pardon  and  clemency,  forgetfulness  is  the 
most  complete,  the  most  generous.  This  is  the 
reason  why  Paris  is  equally  dear  to  mediocrity 
and  to  superiority,  to  the  humble  and  to  the 
powerful,  to  the  vicious  and  to  the  virtuous,  to 
the  poor  and  to  the  rich. 

In  Paris  each  person  finds  what  he  seeks, 
even  more.  It  is  a  pedestal  for  genius  and 
talent,  an  arena  for  those  who  are  active  and 
ambitious.  It  is  a  desert  also  for  the  dreamer, 
or  for  him,  who,  bleeding  from  some  secret 
wound,  seeks  for  solitude  in  which  to  suffer 
and  to  die  in  peace.  For  solitude  is  not  to  be 
found  alone  in  the  forests,  or  upon  inaccessible 


338 


PAEIS. 


summits,  or  far  away  at  sea.  Chateaubriand 
said,  "  There  is  no  desert  which  is  so  deserted 
as  a  great  city,"  and  Paris  is  the  greatest  of  all 
great  cities.  Generous  beyond  compare  in  its 
hospitality,  it  is  also  gentle  and  kind  in  its 
complete  indifference  to  those  who  wish  to  be 
left  entirely  alone.  It  is  a  place  of  second  na- 
tivity to  exiles  from  every  land,  because  it  is  at 
the  same  time  a  summit  and  a  sea — a  mountain 
of  light  and  an  ocean  of  intellects.  Certainly 
among  those  who  dwell  in  Paris  there  are  a 
great  many  who  suffer,  but  the  more  they 
suffer  the  more  they  love  the  city,  and  the  less 
do  they  think  of  leaving  it.  It  is  one  of  those 
kind  of  loves  which  may  kill,  for  which  there 
is  no  cure,  and  of  which  one  does  not  wish  to 
be  cured.  Paris  was  not  built  in  a  day,  and  it 
will  take  an  eternity  to  destroy  it.  It  offers 
this  one  strange  peculiarity  over  every  other 
city  that  I  ever  knew.  If  it  is  difficult  to  enter 
it  as  an  enemy,  it  is  impossible  to  leave  it 
otherwise  than  as  a  friend. 


INDEX 


Abailard,  Pierre,  i.  39,  163, 
164 

Abbaye,  Prison  of,  i.  90 
Abbey  of  Longchamps,  ii.  257 
Saint  Denis,   ii.   154.  See 

also  Churches. 
Sainte  Genevieve,  i.  31,  34, 

94,  266,  267 
Saint  Germain  des  Pres,  i. 

32,  37,  87,  88 
Saint  Martin  des  Champs, 
i.  281,  282 
Academie   Franchise,   i.  261, 

262,  263,  264 
Academy  of  Music.  See  Thea- 
tres 

Actors,  ii.  77,  84,  92,  93,  101 
Actresses,  ii.  80,  81,  82,  83, 

84,  85,  86,  92,  93 
Alexander   I.   of   Russia,  ii. 

247 

Alphand,  Monsieur,  ii.  252 
Amphitheatre,    Ancient.  See 
Arenes. 

Appropriations,  Annual.  See 

Expenses. 
Aqueduct,     Ancient  Roman, 

i.  21 

Arago.     See  Ecole  Polytech- 
nique. 

Arc  du   Carrousel.   See  Car- 
rousel, 
de  l'Etoile,  ii.  7,  15 
de  Triomphe.    See  Etoile. 
Arenes  of  Lutetia,  i.  26,  27 
Arms  of  Paris,  i.  44 
Arsenal,  ii.  119 
Art  of  Gardening.    See  Gar- 
dening. 

Arts  and  Letters,  ii.  69,  183 
Assassination :    Attempts  at, 

ii.  22,  23,  24 

Due  de  Berri,  ii.  47,  155 
Audiffret-Pasquifcr,  Due  d.  See 

Speakers. 
Augier,  Emile,  ii.  91 
Avenue  du  Bois  de  Boulogne, 
ii.  263,  266 
des  Champs  Elysees,  ii.  213 
de  l'Opera.   See  Boulevards. 


Ballet,  ii.  44 

Ballrooms,  Mabille,  i.  320 
Vauxhall  d'Hiver,  i.  320 
Bank  of  France,  ii.  275,  276, 
277 

Banks,  ii.  26,  27 
Bastille,  i.  320,  336 
Berri,  Due  de,  ii.  247 
Duchesse  de,  ii.  247 
Bertrand,  General.    See  Ecole 

Polytechnique. 
Bibliotheque  Nationale.  See 

Libraries 
Bievre  River,  ii.  118 
Blucher,  Anecdote  of,  ii.  128 
Bois  de  Boulogne,  i.  350 ;  ii. 
253,  254,  255,  256 
Income  from,  ii.  259,  260 
Vincennes,  i.  219,  350 ;  ii. 
256,  257,  264 
Bonaparte,  Caroline,  ii.  246 
Joseph,  ii.  247 
Lucien,  ii.  247 
Books,  Dealers  in  Old,  ii.  125, 
132 

Boulanger,  General,  Duel  with 
Floquet,  ii.  233 

Boulevards,  i.  338,  349 ;  ii.  18, 
19,  20,  21,  118,  122 

Bouquinistes.   See  Books 

Bourbon,  Palais.    See  Palais 
Bourbon. 
Duchesse  de,  ii.  245 

Bourgoin.   See  Actresses 

Bourse,  ii.  277,  278,  289 

Bridges,  ii.  116 

Pont  de  l'Alma,  ii.  127 
de  l'Archeveque,  ii.  123 
de  l'Arcole,  ii.  121 
des  Arts,  ii.  125 
d'Austerlitz,  ii.  117 
de  Bercy,  ii.  117 
Carrousel,  ii.  125 
au  Change,  ii.  121 
de  la  Concorde,  ii.  125 
au  Double,  ii.  123 
de  Grenelle,  ii.  128 
des  Invalides,  ii.  127 
de  Iena,  ii.  128 


340 


INDEX. 


Bridges  :  Pont  du  Jour,  ii.  130 
Pont  Louis  Philippe,  ii.  120 
Marie,  ii.  120 
Mirabeau,  ii.  129 
National,  ii.  116 
Neuf,  i.  108,  136;  ii.  9, 
123 

Notre  Dame,  ii.  121 
de  Passy,  ii.  120 
Royal,  ii.  125,  131 
Saint  Louis,  ii.  120 
Saint  Michel,  ii.  122 
de  Solferino,  ii.  125 
Sully,  ii.  118,  119 
de  Tolbiac,  ii.  117 
de  la  Tournelle,  ii.  120 
Brisson,  Henri.  See  Speakers. 
Brothers  of  the  Passion,  ii.  67 
Buffet,  Monsieur.    See  Speak- 
ers. 

Buttes,  'Chaumont,  i.  353,  354, 
355,  356,  357,  358 

Cabinet  Officers.  See  Govern- 
ment. 

Cafe  de  l'Alcazar  d'Ete,  ii.  11 
des  Ambassadeurs,  ii.  10 
Madrid,  ii.  257 

Capital,  View  of,  ii.  3 

Capitol,  Real,  of  Paris,  i.  48 

Cardinal  Richelieu.  See  Rich- 
elieu, Palace  of 

Carnavalet.     See  Hotel. 

Carnot,  elected  President,  ii. 
232 

Carrousel.    See  Place  du  Car- 
rousel. 
Square  of,  ii.  4 
Cassimer-Perier.     See  Speak- 

Catacombs,   ii.  281   and  319 

to  328  inclusive. 
Cathedral  of  Notre  Dame,  i. 

31,  68,  92,  95,  97,  99,  100, 

101 

Catherine    de    Medicis.  See 

Medicis,  Catherine  de. 
Cavaignac.     See  Ecole  Poly- 
technique. 
Cemetery    of    the  Innocents. 

See  Churches. 
Cemeteries,  Bois  de  Boulogne, 
ii.  257 
Innocents,  ii.  319,  320 
Montmartre,  ii.  171,  172 
Mont  Parnasse,  ii.  172 
Pere  La  Chaise,  ii.  165,  166, 

167,  168,  169,  170 
Picpus,  ii.  173 


Chamber  of  Deputies,  ii.  124, 
126,  131,  219  to  225,  238 
to  240 
Committees  of,  ii.  234 
Parties  in,  ii.  223 
President  of.   See  Speakers. 
Champs  Elys6es,  i.  328,  349; 

ii.  6,  7,  9,  11,  12.  19,  243 
Charles  the  Fat,  i.  33,  36 

V.  ,  ii.  270 

VI.  ,  i.  70,  71,  72 

VII.  ,  i.  148 

VIII.  ,  i.  273 

IX.  ,  ii.  145 
Charlemagne,   i.  33,  36:  ii. 

270 

Charras.  See  Ecole  Poly- 
technique. 

Chateau  of  Versailles.  See 
Versailles  of  Vincennes. 
See  Vincennes. 

Chatelet,  Grand  and  Petit,  i. 
40,  95 

Childebert,  i.  32,  47;  ii.  153, 
154 

Chlodwig,  i.  31 
Churches  :    Innocents,  i.  352. 
La  Madeleine,  ii.  19,  28 
Notre   Dame,  ii.  120,  138, 

139,  140,  141,  142,  143, 

144,  145,  146,  149 
Notre  Dame   de  l'Assomp- 

tion,  ii.  158 
Notre  Dame  de  Lorette,  ii. 

159 

Sacre    Cceur,    ii.    160,  161, 
162,  163 
Saint  Chapelle,  ii.  146,  147 
Clotilde,  ii.  159 
Denis,  i.  243,  244,  245, 

246,  247,  248 
Denis  du  Pas,  ii.  139 
Etienne  du  Mont,  i.  266; 

ii.  150,  151 
Etienne  des  Gres,  i.  266 
Eustache,  ii.  148 
Germain    l'Auxerrois,  ii. 

143,  145,  154,  155 
Germain  des  Pr&s,  ii.  153 
Jacques,  i.  103,  104 
Julien  le  Pauvre,  ii.  149 
Martin,  i.  281,  282,  283 
Nicholas  des  Champs,  ii. 

156 

Paul,  ii.  159 
Philippe  du  Roule,  ii.  158 
Severin,  ii.  158 
Sulpice,  ii.  152 


INDEX. 


341 


Churches :     Saint  Thomas 
d'Aquin,  ii.  157 
Vincent  de  Paul,  ii.  158 
Sainte    Genevieve,    i.  268, 
271,  272,  273,  274,  275, 
276 

Madeleine,    i.    272,  273, 

274,  275,  276 
Trinite,  ii.  160 
Churchyards,  ii.  164 
Circus,  Summer,  ii.  11,  15 
Cite,  and  lie  de  la,  i.  13,  32, 

40,  44,  92,  93,  109,  161 
City    Hall.     See    Hotel  de 

Ville. 
Clovis,  I  267 
Clubs,  ii.  25,  26,  27 
Cluny.    See  Hotel  de  Cluny. 
College  of  France,  i.  186,  187, 

188,  189,  190 
Colleges,  Earliest,  ii.  174,  175, 

176 

Colonnade  du  Louvre,  i.  227 
Colonne  de  Juillet,  i.  336 ;  ii. 
19,  20 

Vendome,    i.    252,   253,  254, 

255,  256 
Comedie     Francaise.  See 

Theatres. 
Com6diens  Ordinaires,  ii.  72 

Privileges,  ii.  72 
Conciergerie,  i.  54,  55,  56,  57, 

58,  59 

Concorde,  de  la.  See  Place  de 

la  Concorde. 
Conseil     Municipale.  See 

Municipal  Government. 
Conservatoire :     Buildings,  ii. 

109 

Early  History  of,  ii.  100, 

101,  102 
Examinations    at,    ii.  105, 

106,  110 
Present  Organization  of,  ii. 

103,  104,  105,  106,  107, 

111 

Prizes,  ii.  108 
Professors  in,  ii.  103,  106, 
111 

Conservatoire  de  Musique,  i. 
281 

Conservatoire  des  Arts  et 
Metiers,  i.  281,  282,  283, 
284,  285,  286,  287,  288, 
289,  351 

Cossacks  in  Paris,  i.  321,  331 ; 
ii.  26 

Coup  d'fitat,  ii.  202,  209 


Cours  la  Reine,  ii.  7,  8,  10, 
128 

Courts  of  Law,  i.  50,  51,  52, 

53 

Crusades,  ii.  141 

Dagobert,  King,  i.  32;  ii.  154 
Dames  de  la  Halles,  i.  353 
Dark  Ages,  i.  46 
Deputies,  Chamber  of.  See 

Chamber  of  Deputies. 
Number  of,  ii.  223 
Salaries  of,  ii.  235 
Deschanel,     Monsieur  Paul. 

See  Speakers. 
Desecration  of  Royal  Tombs, 

i,  245,  246,  247,  248 
Devienna,  Madamoiselle.  See 

Actresses. 
Donjon  of  the  Louvre,  i.  42, 

43,  132 
of  Vincennes,  i.  221 
Dramatic  Art,  ii.  63,  74,  75 
Dumas,   Alexandre,   Pere,  ii. 

90,  91 

Ecole  Polytechnique,  ii.  197  to 

213  inclusive. 
Anecdotes  of,  ii.  214,  215, 

216,  217 
Education.  See  Instruction. 
£lysee,  Palace  of,  i.  145.  See 

also  Palais  d'£llysee. 
Elysian  Fields,  ii.  6 
£toile,  Arc  de  1',  i.  322,  324, 

325,  326,  327.    See  also 

Arc  de  l'Etoile. 
Expenses  of  the  Capital.  See 

Municipal  Government. 
Expositions  Universelle,  i.  348 

Famine  and  Plague,  i.  98 
Faubourgs,  i.  16,  37,  40,  319, 

349,  351 ;  ii.  157,  158 
Favart,  Madame,  ii.  72 
Salle.   See  Theatres. 
Figures,  Colossal,  ii.  6 
Finance,  Ministry  of,  i.  311 
Floquet,  Charles.    See  Speak- 
ers. 

Flower  Markets,  ii.  122 
Flowers  and  Plants,  i.  362 
Folies  Dramatiques.  See  Thea- 
tres. 

Foreign  Office,  ii.  126,  131 
Forest  of  Rouvray,  ii.  254 
Fortifications.    See  Walls. 
Fountains,   i.  210,  211,  212, 
213,  214;  ii.  6,  263 


342 


INDEX. 


Foyers :  Of  the  Danse,  ii.  57 
Opera,  ii.  35 

Theatre  Frangaise,  ii.  96 
Frangaise,     Comedie.  See 

Theatres. 
Francois,  L,  i.  107,  110,  132, 

149,  330 ;  ii.  67,  151,  252, 

270 

French    Academy.  See 

Academie  Franchise. 
French    Institute.       See  In- 

"  stitut  de  France. 
Freycinet,  M.  de.     See  £coIe 

Polytechnique. 
Fulton,  Robert,  ii.  25 
Funeral  Ceremonies :  Louis 
XVI.,  i.  243 
McMahon,  i.  235 
Mirabeau,  i.  269,  270 
Napoleon  I.,  i.  325 
Victor  Hugo,  i.  272,  328 

Gambetta,  Leon.  See  Speak- 
ers 

As  a  Host,  ii.  238,  239 
Gardening,  ii.  250 
Gas,  Lighting  City  by,  i.  339, 

340,  341,  342 
Genevieve,  Sainte,  i.  266,  267 
Georges,   Mademoiselle.  See 

Actresses. 
Government  of  France,  ii.  242 
Grand    and    Petit  Trianon. 

See  Trianon. 
Grand    Salle    du    Palais  de 

Justice,  i.  52 

Haussmann,  Baron,  i.  104, 
348,  352;  ii.  11,  252 

Heloi'se  and  Abailard.  See 
Cemeteries. 

Henri  II.,  i.  149 

III.  ,  i.  142,  143  ;  ii.  68,  157. 

IV.  ,  i.  74,  75,  80,  89,  106, 
109,  110,  138,  143,  228, 
313,  337;  ii.  7,  257 

Hernani.    See  Plays. 
Homme   Rouge,    Petit.  See 

Man  in  Red. 
Horticultural  Laboratories,  i. 

363 

Hotel  Carnavalet,  i.  125,  126, 
127,  128,  129,  130 
de  Bourgogne,  ii.  67,  68 
de  Cluny,  i.  102,  118,  119, 

120,  121,  122 
de  Flandre,  ii.  67 


Hotel:  des  Invalides,  i.  228, 
229,  230,  231,  232,  325  ;  ii. 
157 

Lambert,  ii.  119 

La  Valette,  ii.  119 

des  Monnies.    See  Mint. 

de  Nevers,  ii.  274 

Saint  Paul,  ii.  159 

de  Sens,  i.  123,  124 

Toulouse,  ii.  275 

des  Tournelles,  i.  147,  148, 

149,  150,  151 
de  Ville,  i.  62,  65,  66,  67, 

68,  69,  75,  76,  77,  269, 

333;  ii.  115,  121 
Houses,  Dwelling.    See  Paris. 

Rent  Value  of,  ii.  332 
Hugues  Capet,  i.  36 

lie  de  la  Cite,  i.  13,  32,  44; 

ii.  120,  122,  123,  133 
des  Cygnes,  ii.  129 
Saint   Louis,   ii.   118,  119, 

120 

Income  from  Rentals,  ii.  11 
Innocents.     See  Churches. 
Institut    de    France,    i.  257, 

258,  259,  260 
Instruction,  Early,  ii.  174, 175 
in  Drawing,  ii.  185 
in    Manual    Labour.  See 

Schools, 
in  Singing,  ii.  185 
Obligatory,  ii.  188 
Pedagogic   Methods    in,  ii. 
187 

Public,  in  France,  ii.  176, 
196 

Interior  Department,  ii.  126 
Invalides.    See  Hotel  des. 
Jacques  de  Molay,  i.  60 
Jardin     d'Acclimatation,  ii. 
259 

de    Luxembourg,    ii.  226, 

251  252 
des  Plantes,  i.  360;  ii.  16, 

137 

du  Temple,  i.  350 

des  Tuileries,  i.  353,  360; 

ii.  4,  6,  8,  11,  125,  132, 

257 

Jeanne  d'Arc,  i.  97,  98,  176, 

177;  ii.  222 
Journalism,  ii.  24 
Jules  Ferry,  i.  77,  180,  184 
Jules  Grevy.    See  Speakers. 
Julian,  i.  18,  19 
Julien,  the  Apostate,  ii.  139 


INDEX. 


343 


Justice,  Palais  de.    See  Palais 
de  Justice. 

La  Bagatelle,  ii.  257 
Lafayette,  Marquis  de,  Statues 

of,  ii.  127,  129 
Lamartine,    Anecdote    of,  ii. 

208 

La  Muette,  ii.  257 
Latin  Quarter,  i.  40;  ii.  252 
Law  Courts.     See  Courts  of 
Law. 

Le  Roi  s'Amuse.     See  Plays. 
Libraries:     Bibliotheque  Na- 
tional, ii.  269  to  275  in- 
clusive. 
Arsenal,  ii.  119 
Deputies,  ii.  222 
Lighting  of  Paris.     See  Gas. 
Louis  Napoleon,  i.  145,  271 
Louis  Philippe,   i.   145,  321, 
322,  332,  333,  335,  338, 
343 ;  ii.  22,  205,  207,  220, 
251,  252 
IX.,  i.  59 
XL,  i.  73,  98 
XIL,  i.  98,  148 
XIIL,  i.  42,  90,  110,  143, 
153,  157,  313  ;  ii.  69,  257 

XIV.  ,  i.  143,  193,  194,  195, 
202,  203,  217,  227,  230, 
249,  250,  313,  314,  337, 
339;  ii.  70,  144,  166, 
219,  270 

XV.  ,  i.  268,  269,  316,  321, 
337 ;  ii.  152,  257 

XVI.  ,  i.  144,  208,  218,  243, 
244,  270,  316,  317,  318 

XVIIL,  i.  145,  320,  331; 

ii.  124,  128 
Louvois,  Place,  i.  351 
Louvre,  i.  42,  132,  133,  134, 

135,  136,  137,  139,  142; 

ii.  132,  135,  156 
Louvre,  Colonnade  of,  i.  227 
Lutetia,  i.  15,  17,  29,  30 
Luxembourg.     See  Palais  du. 
Lycees.     See  Colleges. 

MacMahon,  President,  ii.  161 
Madeleine,  la.  See  Churches. 
Maintenon,  Madam  de,  i.  113, 

155,  206 
Maison  aux  Piliers,  i.  64,  70 
Man  in  Red,  i.  315,  316,  319, 

321,  322 
Marble  Table,  Famous,  i.  50, 

51 


Marche  des  Innocents,  i.  84, 

85,  353 
du  Temple.    See  Temple.  • 
Marie  Antoinette,   i.   53,  58, 

60,   144,   196,   208,  218, 

244,  318 
de  Medicis.     See  Medicis. 
Market,  Poultry,  ii.  135 
Markets.     See  Flowers. 
Marly,  Horses  of,  ii.  7,  10 
Mars,      Mademoiselle.  See 

Actresses. 
Marshal     MacMahon.  See 

Funerals. 
Massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew, 

i.  73 

Medicis,  Catherine  de,  i.  59, 
136,  137,  142,  151,  315 
Marie  de,  ii.  7 
Mediaeval  Ages,  i.  92,  93 
Meline,  Monsieur.   See  Speak- 
ers. 

Merovingian  Kings,  i.  31,  47, 
121 

Military  Zone,  i.  345 

Milo,  Venus  de.     See  Venus 

de  Milo. 
Ministries.     See  Government. 
Mint,  ii.  135 

Mirabeau.     See  Funerals. 
Molifcre,  ii.  70,  71,  76 

Maison  de.    See  Theatres. 
Monasteries,  i.  37,  38 
Monceau.    See  Parks. 
Montgomery,  Count  of,  i.  151 
Montmartre,  Hill  of,  ii.  160, 
161 

Morny,  Due  de.     See  Speak- 
ers. 

Moscow,  Decree  of,  ii.  87 
Municipal  Government,  i.  63, 
70,  71,  72,  73,  290,  291, 
292,  293,  294,  295,  296, 
297,  298,  299 
Museum  of  Artillery,  i.  237 
Carnavalet.    See  Hotel  Car- 

navalet. 
Cluny.   See  Hotel  de  Cluny. 
Louvre.    See  Louvre, 
of    Theatre    Franchise,  ii, 
92,  93,  94 
Napoleon  I.,  i.  105,  145,  178, 
229,  231,  252,  255,  271, 
275,  310,  318,  320,  321, 
323,  325,  328;  ii.  25,  77, 
78,  83,   84,  85,  87,  92, 
103,  124,  128,  145,  198, 
202,  203,  220,  247 


344 


Napoleon,    Tomb    of.  See 
Tombs. 

III.,     ii.    28,     209,  247, 
251.      See,    also,  Louis 
Napoleon. 
National   Library.      See  Li- 
braries. 
Navy  Department,  ii.  126 
Ninon  de  l'Enclos,  ii.  26 
Norman  Invasion,  i.  33,  34, 

35,  36,  267 
Notre  Dame.     See  Cathedral 
of. 

Nurseries  for  Trees,  i.  363 

Obelisk,  i.  333;  ii.  6 
Octroi,  ii.  332 
Opera  Comique,  i.  105 
Grand,  i.  114,  144 

Pailleron,   Dramatic  Author, 
ii,  91 

Palace  of  the  Caesars.  See 
Palais  des  Thermes. 
Cite.   See  Palais  de  Justice. 
Louvre.    See  Louvre. 
Thermes.    See  Palais  des. 
Palais  Bourbon,  i.  273.  See, 
also,  Chamber  of  Depu- 
ties. 

de  l'Elysees,   ii.   126,  243, 

244,  245,  246.    See,  also, 

filysee. 
de  l'lnstitut,  ii.  125 
de  Justice,  i.  31,  43,  47, 

48,  49,  54,  61;  ii.  146 
de    Legion    d'Honneur,  ii. 

125,  131 
du  Luxembourg,  i.  110;  ii. 

225,  226,  227 
Royal,  i.  110,  111,  112,  113, 

114,  115,  116,  117 
des  Thermes,  i.  20,  21,  25, 

37,  47;  ii.  123 
du  Trocadero,  ii.  115 
des  Tuileries.   See  Tuileries. 
de  Versailles.     See  V  e  r  - 

sailles 

Pantheon,  'i.  242,  262  to  271 

inclusive. 
Paris,  Basin  of,  ii.  297 
Beauties  of,  ii.  333.  to  end 

of  volume. 
Cabs  in,  ii.  331 
Debt  of,  ii.  332 
Dwelling  Houses  in,  ii.  331, 
332 

Omnibuses  in,  ii.  331 
Pavements  of,  ii.  330,  333 


Paris,  Site  of,  i.  14 

Weddings  in,  ii.  330 
Parisis,  Primitive  Days  of,  i. 
13 

Parks,  ii.  249,  251,  253 
Boulogne.      See    Bois  de 

Boulogne. 
Buttes    Chaumont.  See 

Buttes. 
Monceau,  i.  353,  358 
Versailles.     See  Versailles. 
Vincennes.     See  Vincennes. 
Parlouer  aux  Bourgeois,  i.  64 
Passage  des  Panoramas,  ii.  25 
Pensionnaires,  ii.  87,  88 
Pepin  Family,  i.  33 
Petit    and    Grand  Trianons. 

See  Trianons. 
Philippe  Augustus,  i.  41,  266 
Place  Bellechasse,  ii.  159 
de  la  Bastille,  ii.  19,  111 
du  Carrousel,  i.  311,  312, 
317,  318,  319,  320,  321; 
ii.  4 

du  Chatelet,  i.  40,  105;  ii. 
21 

de  la  Comedie  Francaise,  i. 
312 

de  la  Concorde,  i.  272,  325 ; 
ii.  4,  5,  6,  7,  11,  128,  130 

d'ltalie,  ii.  265 

Louis  XV.,  i.  273 

Louvois,  i.  351 

de  la  Madeleine,  ii.  19 

de  l'Opera,  ii.  27 

de  la  Republique,  ii.  22 

Royale,   i.   151,   152,  153, 
154,  155,  156,  157,  158 

Saint  Germain  l'Auxerrois, 
ii.  157 

Saint  Michel,  ii.  122 

du  Trocadero,  ii.  129,  265 

du  Trone,  ii.  265 

Vendome,  i.  251 

des  Victoires,  i.  250 
,  Plague  and  Famine,  i.  98 
Plants  and  Flowers,  i.  362 
Plays,  Famous,  ii.  85,  86 
Police  of  Paris,  i.  291,  and 

301  to  309  inclusive. 
Polytechnique.  See  ficole. 
Pompadour,    Marquis   de,  ii. 

243,  244 
Pont  Neuf.     See  Bridges. 
Population  of  Paris,  i.  337 
Porte  de  Bercy,  ii.  116 

de  la  Gare,  ii.  116 

Saint  Denis,  i.  250;  ii.  23 


INDEX. 


345 


Porte  Saint  Martin,  i.  249, 

282 ;  ii.  23 
Pre  aux  Clercs,  i.  89,  94;  ii. 

134 

Preface,  i.  1  to  12 
Prefects,  i.  60,  303 
Presidents.    See  Speakers, 
of  the  Republic,  Residence 

of,  ii.  243 
Primary  Schools.    See  Schools. 
Priory    and    Church    of  St. 

Martin,  ii.  156.    See,  also, 

Churches. 
Prisons :     Abbaye.     See  Ab- 

baye. 

Conciergerie.       See  Con- 
ciergerie. 
Prussians    in   Paris,    i.  327, 
330 

Punch  and  Judy  Shows,  ii.  14 

Quartier  Latin,  i.  40 
Quarters  of  Paris :  Champs 

Elysees,  i.  349 
Faubourg  St.  Germain,  etc., 

i.  349,  351 
Quays :  des  Augustins,  ii.  135 
d'Austerlitz,  ii.  117,  137 
de  Bercy,  ii.  117 
des  Bethunes,  ii.  136 
de  Billy,  ii.  130,  131 
des  Celestins,  ii.  119 
de  la  Conference,  ii.  131 
de  Conti,  ii.  123,  135 
aux  Fleurs,  ii.  136 
de  la  Gare,  ii.  117 
de  Gesvres,  ii.  136 
de  Grenelle,  ii.  130 
Henri  IV.,  ii.  118 
de  l'Horloge,  ii.  122,  136 
de  Jaral,  ii.  130 
.    du  Louvre,  ii.  123,  131 
Malaquais,  ii.  135 
de  Montebello,  ii.  136 
d'Orleans,  ii.  136 
d'Orsay,  ii.  125,  130,  131 
de  Passy,  ii.  130 
Pelletier,  ii.  130 
de  la  Rapee,  ii.  117 
Saint  Bernard,  ii.  118,  136 
de  la  Tournelle,  ii.  136 
Voltaire,  ii.  125,  131 
Rabelais,  House  of,  ii.  119 
Richelieu,  Cardinal,  ii.  69 
Palace  of,  i.  110,  111,  112, 

113,  114,  115 
Tomb  of.     See  Tombs. 
Roman  Occupation,  i.  15,  16, 

17,  18,  25 


Royal,    Palais.      See  Palais 
Royal. 

Royal    Places    of  Sepulchre. 

See  Sepulchres. 
Royale,    Place.      See  Place 

Royale. 

Saint  Denis.     See  Churches. 
Denis,   Porte.      See  Porte 

St.  Denis. 
Jacques,   Tower   of,   i.  99, 

100,  101,  102,  103 
Jacques,   Church  of.  See 

Churches. 
Jacques,  Garden  of,  i.  350 
Martin,  Porte.     See  Porte. 
Sainte  Chapelle,  i.  54,  93 
Sardou,  Dramatic  Author,  ii. 
91 

Schools.     See  Instruction. 
Commissioners  of,  ii.  193 
Discipline  in,  ii.  187 
Free  Books  and  Papers  in, 
ii.  179 

Free    Clothing    for  Poor 

Children,  ii.  182 
Free  Lunches,  ii.  180,  181 
Housekeeping     Taught  in 

Free,  ii.  186 
Manual  Labour  Taught  in, 

ii.  185,  186 
Mixed,  ii.  189,  190,  191,  192 
Primary,  ii.  177,  178,  185, 

188,  189,  193 
Systems  of  Rewards  in,  ii. 

187 

Teachers  in,  ii.  194 
Vacations,  ii.  183 
Senate  and  Senators,  ii.  225, 

226,  227 
Sens.    See  Hotels. 
Sepulchre,   i.   243,   244,  245, 

246,  247,  248,  270 
Sevigne,   Madam   de,   i.  125, 
127 

Sewers,    Banqueting    in,  ii. 
304 

Cost  of,  per  annum,  ii.  296 

Excursion  in,  ii.  300,  301, 
302,  303 

Health  of  Labourers  in,  ii. 
307,  308 

System  of,  ii.  28  to  319  in- 
clusive. 

Working  in,  ii.  305,  306,  307 
Slavery,    Abolishment   of,  in 

France,  i.  347 
Societaires  of  Comedie  Fran- 

gaise,  ii.  87,  88 


346 


INDEX. 


Sorbonne,  i.  172,  173,  174, 
175,  176,  177,  178,  179, 
180,  181,  185 

Speakers,  of  the  Chamber  of 
Deputies,  ii.  227,  228, 
229,  230,  231,  232,  233, 
234,  235,  236,  336 
Residence  of,  ii.  236,  237, 
238 

Salary  of,  ii.  235 
Strasbourg,  Monument  of,  ii. 
6 

Streets,  Cost  of,  ii.  332 
Suffrage,  Universal,  i.  347 

Taglioni,  Marie,  ii.  47,  48 
Talma.     See  Actors. 
Teachers,   Number  of.  See 
Schools. 
Appointment  of,  ii.  195 
Pay  of,  ii.  194 
Templars,  i.  43,  78,  79,  80 
Temple,  i.  43,  80,  81,  82,  83, 
94 

to  Great  Men.  See  Pan- 
theon. 

Jardin  de,  i.  350 

Marche"  du,  i.  82,  83,  84, 
85,  86 

Theatres :     Ambigu  Comique, 

ii.  22,  71 
Chateau  d'Eau,  ii.  22 
Chatelet,  i.  105 
des  Arts,  ii.  46 
Comedie  Franchise,  ii.  71, 

72,  73,  83,  87 
Favart   ( Salle),  ii.  47 
Faydeau,  ii.  72 
Folies  Dramatiques,  ii.  22 
Francais,  ii.  71,  73,  74,  75, 

76,  77 

Grand  Opera,  ii.  27,  28,  29, 
30,  40,  41,  43,  47,  48,  75 
Gymnase,  ii.  23 
Hotel  de  Bourgogne,  ii.  69, 

Italiens,  ii.  69 
Mont  Sucolitus,  i.  27 
National,  ii.  46 
Odeon,  ii.  73 

Opera.     See  Grand  Opera. 
Opera  Comique,  ii.  71,  72. 
See,  also,  Opera  Comique. 


Palais   Royal,   i.   115;  ii. 

41,  70,  71 
Porte  Saint  Martin,  i.  282; 

ii.  22,  46 
Renaissance,  ii.  23 
Vaudeville,  ii.  27 
Tilting  Tournaments,  i.  151. 

314 

Tomb    of   Napoleon,    i.  237, 
238,  239,  240 ;  ii.  127 
of    Richelieu.      See  Sor- 
bonne. 

Tournelles,  H6tel  des.  See 
Hotels. 

Tour  de  Nesle,  i.  148,  259; 
ii.  135 

Tower  of  Saint  Jacques.  See 

Saint  Jacques. 
Towers  of  N6tre  Dame,  i.  99 
Trees  in  Paris,  i.  360,  361, 

362,  363,  364;  ii.  135 
Trianon,    Petit    and  Grand, 

i.  217,  218,  219 
Trocadero.       See    Palais  du 

Trocadero. 
Troubadours,  ii.  64 
Tuileries,    i.    142,    143,  144, 

145,  146,  312,  315,  317, 

331 

Universite,  i.  88,  161,  162, 
164,  165,  166,  167,  168, 
169,  170,  171,  182 

Venus  de  Milo,  i.  139,  140, 
141 

Versailles,   i.   195,   196,  197, 

198,  199,  200,  201,  202, 

203,  206,  207 
Victor  Hugo,  ii.  85.   See,  also, 

Funerals. 
Vincennes,  i.  94,  219,  220,  221, 

222,  223,  224 
Voltaire,  i.  270,  271;  ii.  20, 

125 

Walls  of  Paris,  i.  29,  30,  37, 
41,  96,  107,  337,  343,  344, 
345,  346,  347 

Water,  ii.  294 

Wine   Merchants,  Wholesale, 

ii.  136 

Winter  Festivals,  i.  69 


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